Danganronpa: Frozen Mayhem
by elyriaxx
Summary: Sixteen Super High School Level students, stranded in a desolate school in Antarctica. The only way out is to commit the perfect murder - and get away with it. What could possibly go wrong? A Danganronpa-styled killing game with original students and scenarios. The only things I own are the characters and plot details.
1. P-1: Prologue

Hope's Peak Academy - a shining beacon of the nation's most talented. Simply graduating from the prestigious school would guarantee you success for the rest of your life, but the thought of attending Hope's Peak was a mere myth to most people. The school personally scouted each and every one of its students, dubbing them a "Super High School Level" in whatever field they excelled in.

The thought of Hope's Peak had always been pushed to the back of Nishimura Seishiro's mind, only brought up by his little sister occasionally gushing about how oh-so-wonderful it would be to attend. He thought that they wouldn't notice some average boy from a small town, no matter how talented. That is, until he found himself standing before the towering gates of the academy, fidgeting with the acceptance letter in his hand until it became a crumpled mess. He sighed in dismay upon realising the state of the sheet of paper, before unfolding it and rereading the printed writing for what felt like the hundredth time.

 **To Nishimura Seishiro:**

 **You have been scouted by Hope's Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Pyrotechnician, which recognises you as the best and most talented high-school-age student currently in this field.**

 **We would be honoured to accept you and your talent into Hope's Peak.**

Seishiro stopped reading, folding the letter back into his pocket. He tugged at the unruly lock of dark brown hair that had somehow decided to stick up straight this morning and refused to obey the laws of gravity. In hindsight, a grey hooded jacket and jeans weren't exactly the prime choice of uniform to wear on one's first day at the most famous school in Japan, but it was all he could do. And besides, what kind of weird talent was 'SHSL Pyrotechnician' anyway?

Done with mentally preparing himself, Seishiro strode quickly through a barren courtyard, staring at his sneakers. Creaking open a large set of doors, he stepped into an oddly empty hall. Just as he realised that something was definitely wrong, a wave of nausea and dizziness hit him. He stumbled, darkness clouding the corners of his vision.

It was like everything was blurring together. Not just the room and what he could see, but it seemed that space itself was warping and twisting. He wanted to scream. It didn't feel like he was still standing anymore, like the ground wasn't solid, and he felt something there, and it was loud, everything was so loud and-

He didn't realise when he hit the floor, grasping at his fading consciousness.

He wouldn't realise a lot of things.


	2. P-2: Incentives

Seishiro woke to jumbled voices blending together all around him. He cracked his eyes open, recoiling at the bright light which was quickly blocked by a figure moving over him. A boy with soft navy blue hair and a thick-framed pair of glasses stood with his feet on either side of Seishiro's body. Before he could take in anything else, the boy bent down and gave him a hard, decisive poke in the forehead, earning a surprised grunt.

"He's alive!" The blue-haired boy called at someone that Seishiro couldn't see.

Seishiro groaned, rolling onto his side and into the boy's leg, who lifted it and hopped off balance for a moment. He sat up to see the boy extending a hand towards him with a friendly smile. Uncertainly, he took it and pulled himself up.

"Lemme guess, you got accepted into Hope's Peak too?" The boy had already started talking before Seishiro had registered where he was. "I'm **Shima Yuji**! I'm the **Super High School Level Barista** ," he added. Yuji wore what looked like a bartender's uniform, contrary to his talent, comprised of a white, long-sleeved button-up, black vest and black dress pants.

The brunette awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. "Uh, Nishimura Seishiro. SHSL Pyrotechnician. Good to meet you, Shima-san."

Yuji grinned. "Just Yuji is fine. Anyway, from what I got, all of us passed out the second we stepped into the school. You too, right?"

Seishiro nodded absent-mindedly as he looked around the room. It seemed like he was the last to wake up. A decently sized group of about fifteen students took up what appeared to be a school gym, with a raised stage at one side. Some students were socialising, others secluding themselves on the edges of the room. _Too many people_ , Seishiro thought quietly.

A loud commotion broke out somewhere to Seishiro's left, making him jump in surprise. A girl with long pink pigtails, bright purple eyes and a short white and pink dress pushed past a few other students, some giving her indignant looks and others appearing unfazed.

"Do you really expect THE Yamamoto Shigeko to be treated like this?!" The girl's shrill voice cried out. "Where is my welcome party?!"

"The?" echoed Seishiro.

Yuji shrugged. "Beats me," he replied sheepishly. "I think she did some review of the cafe I worked at once."

"I haven't really heard of her, I guess."

Suddenly, as if given an electric shock, the pink-haired girl stood stock straight and marched towards the pair.

"Uh oh," grinned the barista.

Shigeko jabbed her finger at Seishiro's chest and glared up at him. "You haven't heard of me? Inconceivable! I'm **Yamamoto Shigeko** , the **Super High School Level Food Critic**! I've written for magazines and online articles everywhere! I've judged television cooking shows! Where do you live? Under a rock?!"

Seishiro let out a nervous laugh.

"And who do you think you are, anyway?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could a strange laugh resonated around the gym, causing all the other students to look around in surprise.

"Upupupupu..."

It came again, sounding like somebody trying to crudely imitate a cute child. Hushed whispers spread about the gym. Without warning, confetti suddenly sprayed from the podium on the stage, startling Seishiro. A small cartoony stuffed bear leapt up from behind the podium, planting itself next to the microphone. The bear held an unsettling appearance - one half white and normal-looking, the other side black and sporting a jagged red eye and a sharp-toothed grin.

"So, I see our final few sleepyheads are awake! Upupupupu!" The bear struck a cutesy pose on the podium.

"It...talks?" A older-looking girl clad heavily in makeup hissed. "Who are you and what happened to us?" She demanded.

The bear laughed once more. Its voice was grating enough to make someone's ears bleed with enough exposure. "Why, I'm Monokuma! Your new headmaster!" More murmurs spread around the gym. Was this a joke, or was it what Hope's Peak was really like? "First, let me make a few things clear to you all! Rule Number 1: there will be no leaving the school premises, and no contact with the outside world, ever! I've already confiscated all of your laptops and mobile phones!"

"You can't do that!" Shigeko gave an outraged cry. "Do you know who I am?!"

"Quiet, you yapping dog!" Monokuma pointed its paw at the food critic, sharp claws protruding from it. Shigeko took a step back, uncertain. "Now, where was I? Ah, that's right. There will be no leaving and no hope of rescue, for the rest of your lives!"

"That's not right," a girl in a cheerleading uniform replied. "Sixteen ultra talented high school students go missing on the same day? The police are gonna come for us." Mumbled agreements and nods came from the group.

"Nu-uh, that's where you're wrong! I've taken the time out of my busy schedule to build you all a brand new school - in the middle of Antarctica! Just go take a look through those boarded windows," Monokuma called. It was only now that Seishiro realised all the windows had large metal plates bolted on top of them, with only a few leaving gaps to see through. He directed his gaze back towards his "headmaster" as the bear spoke up again.

"However, I'm also very generously giving you all a way to leave! And I'm delighted to tell you that the only way to get out...is through murder!" At that last word, more confetti sprayed from the podium. "All ya gotta do is kill one of your fellow classmates and get away with it! How you do it doesn't matter! Poisoning! Drowning! Bashing in their skull! If you cover up your tracks and the others can't find the murderer, they're the one that gets to walk free!" Seishiro's stomach felt as if a rock had dropped into it. He half expected someone to jump out and tell them all that it was just a joke, but with the way that things were progressing at the moment, it was becoming more and more unlikely.

"Why you-!" An animalistic growl came from a black-haired girl in a midriff-revealing top. She charged at the unfazed Monokuma, who simply stepped on a red button on the podium. A thick wall of glass shot up, separating the gym from the stage. The angry girl was already in the air, and she kicked into the glass, propelling her backwards as she landed off balance.

Monokuma laughed as the glass wall receded. "I'll let you off with a warning this time, since I haven't finished explaining the rules yet. The one who commits the murder is the blackened! If the other students correctly deduce who the culprit is, then only the blackened is punished with death! If they're wrong, then the blackened gets to leave and everybody else dies in their place!"

"That's sick," muttered Yuji. "Sick and twisted."

"And one final rule: absolutely no violence against your headmaster, Monokuma! Dissenters-" and at this the bear turned to glare at the girl who attacked him, "-will be punished with death!" She folded her arms, staring straight back at him. The bear ignored her and continued. "In each of your pockets, you'll find your ElectroID, with a list of the rules and a map of the school facilities."

Seishiro checked in the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out a touchscreen device displaying the symbol of Hope's Peak. Sure enough, everyone else had one too.

"Assembly dismissed!" Monokuma's voice cut through the sudden silence of everyone checking their devices. "You're all free to explore our wonderful facilities as you wish, but be sure to keep an eye out for your potential killer! Which ones of you could be already planning a murder? The suspense is simply un _bear_ able, upupupu!"

And with that, the stuffed bear simply vanished in a shower of confetti.

Seishiro stood, mind racing amidst the hushed whispers and voices around him. Was this for real? There was no way that he could come to terms with never seeing his family and friends again. And now that he was stuck in a building with strangers, given an incentive to kill? Everybody else here was just like him, right? Afraid, but unwilling to murder. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the corners of his mind.


	3. P-3: Introductions

The rest of the students dispersed to explore the school in groups, leaving Seishiro and a single other girl in the gymnasium. The pyrotechnician had thoroughly inspected the stage and now came to peer through one of the boarded windows. True to Monokuma's word, they did seem to be located in Antarctica, as he could only see layers of white snow and exposed rock formations in the distance.

"Hello," came a small voice behind him. Seishiro turned to see a short girl with long, pale blonde hair wearing a ruffled dark blue shirt with a matching skirt. A translucent silver scarf was draped around her neck, and she had a golden hairclip. Rather curiously, he could see the reflection of a star shape in her pale blue eyes, but chalked it up to a trick of the light.

"Uh, hi," Seishiro mumbled awkwardly. He hadn't really expected her to just come up to him like that, and she didn't appear much like the kind to socialise.

The girl hummed a little before coming to look through the slit of the window. "I can't see the stars...from here," she said. She spoke slowly, with pauses in between as if she was contemplating each phrase before letting it escape her tongue. "You seem...trustworthy. I can see it in your aura." She nodded, pleased with herself. "I am **Ichisada Hitomi**. They say that I am the **Super High School Level Astrologer**."

"You can read my aura? Is that even part of astrology?" Seishiro questioned. Hitomi cocked her head. "I mean, it's pretty cool," he back-pedalled. "I'm just more of a science person, I guess. Nishimura Seishiro, pyrotechnician." He tacked the introduction onto the end, hoping that he didn't sound too uncaring.

"Reading auras...no, I just happen to be perceptive. It doesn't have much to do with astrology."

Seishiro nodded. "I'm going to go take a look around. Do you wanna come? Safety in numbers," he said.

Hitomi closed her eyes for a moment. "I am fine here. I will be alright, and so will you. Do not be afraid."

"See you around?" Seishiro called as he left the gym. Hitomi gave a barely audible hum in response.

Turning down the hallway, he pulled out his ElectroID, selecting the 'Rules' tab and reading through.

 **1\. Violence against Monokuma is strictly prohibited.**

 **2\. Students are not allowed to tamper with surveillance cameras and locked doors. Any other areas of the school may be explored freely.**

 **3\. 10pm to 7am are designated night-time hours. Certain rooms will be inaccessible during this time.**

 **4\. Sleeping anywhere other than a dorm room is considered sleeping in class, and will not be tolerated.**

 **5\. One Culprit is allowed a maximum of two Victims.**

 **6\. Once a body is discovered by a minimum of three people, a body discovery announcement will play.**

 **7\. The body discovery announcement will be followed by an investigation period, where students search for evidence. Access will be granted to certain rooms only during the investigation.**

 **8\. When the investigation period is over, the Class Trial will commence. This is where the voting will take place. If the students correctly deduce who the Culprit is, only they are executed. If the students vote incorrectly, everyone but the Culprit will be executed.**

 **9\. Monokuma is allowed to add or change rules at any time.**

The murder-based rules took up a good deal of the list, and Seishiro hoped that they would never be used. Hearing footsteps ahead, Seishiro put away his ElectroID. He rounded the corner just as a force barrelled into him, knocking him flat on the floor.

"Ow, jeez..." a male voice groaned from somewhere to his right. "Couldn't you watch where you were going?"

"I just turned the corner!" Seishiro rebutted, sitting up. "And you were the one running, anyway."

"That's right," singsonged Monokuma's voice. Seishiro looked around, confused, before realising that it was coming from the loudspeaker in the corner. "That's what you get for running in the hallway!"

"Stupid bear!" Sprawled ungracefully against the wall under the speaker was a tall, muscular boy wearing a teal sports uniform and shorts. His hair stood up straight and was dyed blonde at the tips with brown roots, but strangely enough he had haphazard blots of hot pink in his hair and clothes.

Seishiro was too dazed to notice the second set of footsteps running up towards him before a familiar-sounding female voice rang out. "Whoa! That was like one of those anime introductions, but like, ten times more violent." The owner of the voice had black hair tied in a side tail with a straight fringe, and wore a purple pinstriped suit. "Now all you guys gotta do is kindle a romance and have lots of hot-"

"Shut it!" The athletic boy yelled. "I don't need to hear about your erotic fantasies about me and some guy I just met!"

"Hold up," interrupted Seishiro. "I'm really sorry if I'm wrong here, but aren't you **Watanabe Etsuko**? I've been to one of your shows before, actually." He turned to look at the girl in the suit, who grinned wide and nodded.

" **The Super High School Level Comedian**!" She added.

"And wouldn't she like you to know," grumbled the boy against the wall.

Etsuko brandished what appeared to be a spray can at him. "Don't forget which one of us has the weapon here, Kusuhara-kun." She said with a laugh, which only garnered a groan from Kusuhara. "Ah, fragile masculinity at its finest!"

"Wait, weapon?!" Seishiro cried, scrambling backwards. Were the pink splotches in the other boy's hair blood?

Etsuko looked puzzled for a moment, before dawning upon the realisation. "No no no, everything's fine! He was dissing Toru-chan's makeup so I tried to spray-dye his hair pink." She waved the spray can around. "Well, I guess someone's a little jumpy."

Seishiro awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, forgetting to ask who Toru-chan even was. "How are you guys being so normal when we've just been told that we're trapped in here for eternity?"

"I doubt that any of us have the capacity to murder here. And besides, since I was young, I just kind of...laughed at all my problems and forgot about them. That's what I'm trying to do here," she said.

"Nice spiel there about your life philosophies," Kusuhara groaned. "But can someone tell me how to get the pink out of my hair?"

"It should come out eventually," the comedian smirked. "Eventually."

Kusuhara sighed before turning to Seishiro. "Dunno if you've heard of me, but I'm the **SHSL Discus Thrower, Kusuhara Naoki**."

Seishiro's eyes widened in surprise. "No way! You won silver in the Olympics last year, right? The media was all over it!"

"Yeah. To be honest, it seems pretty glamorous but the 'road to success' and all that crap is utter hell." Naoki rubbed at a few flecks of pink on his top. "What about you?"

"I'm Nishimura Seishiro. My talent's kinda obscure," he said. "SHSL Pyrotechnician."

"Pyrotechnician?" Etsuko echoed. "Jeez, I thought you'd be a lot more buff than this," she gestured at his skinny figure.

Fumbling for words, Seishiro quickly pulled the zipper of his jacket up to his collar, feeling his face heat up. "Why would I have to be buff?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, isn't it explosives and all that crap?"

"Oh my god," Seishiro groaned. "It's like, fireworks and special effects. I'm a pyrotechnician, not a pyromaniac."

"Whoa, that really set you off." Naoki commented.

"Sorry," he replied. "It's just that people get it wrong enough times that I'm a little sick of it. Sorry if I snapped at you," he apologised again.

Etsuko shrugged. "It's all right. A lot of people don't appreciate good humour, you know? And besides, that hoodie thing you did just then was adorable! Maybe I should fluster you more often," she giggled, poking him in the cheek.

Seishiro flushed red again, this time pulling his hood down over his eyes, which only elicited another laugh from Etsuko.

"Oh, and if you're wondering where everyone else is, there's a bit of a gathering in the cafeteria." She said with a grin.

"Guess I should check it out?"

"Yeah, it's where we came from," added Naoki. Etsuko waved as Seishiro stuffed his hands into his pockets and began to walk briskly down the corridor.


	4. P-4: Introductions

The cafeteria was by far the largest room that Seishiro had found besides the gym. There were rows of long tables surrounded by smaller ones, with a seemingly well-stocked kitchen running along the back wall. At the central table stood the makeup-clad girl, who appeared to be weaving an intricate braid into the cheerleader's light blue hair. There were two others that he didn't get a good look at in the gym - a tall, tanned boy with white hair sipping at a cup of tea, and a shorter boy with blonde curls in a sailor uniform.

Suddenly, the coffee machine in the kitchen turned on, releasing a cloud of steam into the room with a hiss. "Aw, man," a familiar, male voice complained from inside the coffee cloud. "Is this seriously the best they could do? This coffee smells like dirt!"

"Careful," called the makeup-clad girl. "You seem to be channelling your inner Yamamoto Shigeko there, Yuji-kun."

The barista stepped out of the kitchen, perfectly balancing two saucers with cups of coffee on his left arm while wiping his fogged-up glasses on his apron with his other hand. Deftly placing his glasses back on his face, he noticed Seishiro standing stock straight at the doorway.

"Seishiro-kun!" Yuji waved brightly before setting the two cups on the table, next to the girls who nodded him a thanks.

"Hey, Yuji-kun." Seishiro waved at the others at the table. "Uh, hi, guys." He tentatively came to sit at the corner of the table.

"Oh! Hi!" The blonde sailor turned and bounced excitedly.

"It's good to have someone else joining us," the tanned boy spoke with a soft smile.

The cheerleader waved, the rest of her body unmoving likely due to not wanting to mess up the complicated weaving in her hair.

"Nice to meet you, darling!" The girl braiding the cheerleader's hair finally finished, expertly tying the ends before turning to Seishiro with a wink. " **Toru Misaki** , **SHSL Makeup Artist**."

The blue-haired cheerleader turned to face him, her long hair whipping over her shoulder. She watched him silently for a moment, sizing him up. He had begun to feel slightly uncomfortable under her gaze before she spoke. "I'm **Fujiwara Komi**. I guess it's a little obvious, but I'm the **Super High School Level Cheerleader**." She nodded, looking him over again. "Who are you? I can't get a gauge on your-"

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud voice yelled from Seishiro's left, startling him out of his chair.

"Wait, what? You're Super High School Level too?!" Seishiro recognised the girl who had just entered as the one who attacked Monokuma during the assembly. She had shoulder-length wavy black hair, and her pants were white with an eye-catching flame design. She had now donned a dark cardigan over her black crop top, and stood at the entrance to the cafeteria pointing an accusatory finger at Komi.

"Do I know you?" Komi fixed the other girl with a steely glare. The tension in the room had immediately come to a peak, Seishiro noticed as he met the uncertain gazes of everyone else. Everyone but the sailor boy, who seemed blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him.

"Do you seriously not remember? It's **Shitori Amaya** ," the dark-haired girl spoke. "I didn't think I'd ever have to see you again."

"What did you even get into Hope's Peak for?" Komi narrowed her eyes.

" **Capoeira**!" She had begun to raise her voice. "I bet you don't even know what that is!"

Seishiro fought the urge to back away and make a break for it. "I'm guessing you two know each other," he forced the words out uncertainly. He had noticed that the dark-haired Amaya had a short, curved sword strapped in a golden sheath at her waist. It made him feel uneasy.

She nodded slowly. "Hell yeah, we know each other," she spat.

"Everybody, calm down." The tanned boy came in between the two girls, hands outstretched with palms facing up. "Is there anything that we can do to help you work things out?" His voice was even and calming.

"Look, we're stuck here for god-knows-how-long, and I am not staying in the same building as _her_!"

"It's all right," said Komi. "We're all stuck here, and we're not going to get anything done if we don't work this out. Can we get some private time?"

The peacekeeper nodded, ushering the other four out of the room.

"Yikes, catfight brewing." Yuji muttered, leaning against the closed door.

"Don't eavesdrop, it's rude." Misaki wagged a painted nail at him, causing Yuji to step away, arms raised in defence. She clapped her hands together, facing the group. "Now, we were at introductions, if I remember correctly."

Now that Seishiro had gotten a closer look at the makeup artist, he had decided that the best word to describe her was 'shiny'. She wore an assortment of jewellery, and her long, frizzy hair was tied back into a ponytail, dyed a light brown with glitter sprayed into it. She wore a fluffy white jacket and matching miniskirt over sheer black tights and ankle boots.

"Yeah, he already knows me," Yuji said.

Seishiro swallowed, looking at the others. "Nishimura Seishiro. Uh, SHSL Pyrotechnician. Sorry about the weird talent, but it's nice to meet you all!"

The sailor uniformed boy bounced forwards on his heels. "Whoa, sounds cool! I'm **Hideaki Ryousei**! I mean, you can also probably tell, but I'm the **Super High School Level Sailor**!" He extended his hand, earnestly shaking Seishiro's before adjusting his blue and white hat, which barely covered his mass of blond curls.

"Then I suppose that leaves me," the tall boy said. He was barefoot, wearing loose track pants and a patterned black singlet. "I am **Genda Keiji** , the **Super High School Level Yogi**. Feel free to speak to me if you have anything you need to vent," he spoke with a smile.

"Yeah," added Misaki. "I can help, too. If what that bear says is really true, then I guess we've gotta adjust to this life until someone rescues us."

Seishiro fidgeted with the zipper of his hoodie. "Did you guys get a look around? I mean, I've just been caught up in conversations so far."

Keiji nodded, before gesturing down the hall. "The dorms are down the corridor to the left, there. You have to scan your ElectroID to get in, but the actual rooms aren't all that high-tech."

"Hold on," Yuji interrupted. "Are you just gonna ditch the biggest drama event of the year?" He pointed back at the closed cafeteria doors.

"I doubt that's gonna be the worst of our concerns," replied Misaki, folding her arms. "I mean, we've just been given an motive to murder. It's not like I can see any of us going through with it, but someone could snap over the long term."

Suddenly, the cafeteria double doors swung open, revealing Amaya holding a glass of water.

"Everything all right?" Misaki questioned.

"Yeah, we worked it out. Just...pretend nothing happened," replied Amaya, running a hand through her hair. Komi sat at the table, nonchalantly sipping her coffee.

"We went to the same middle school," she spoke neutrally. "There was an...incident in the past."

"You don't have to talk about it now," said Keiji. "But, it's good that you solved your problem."

The group settled back into an amicable silence, with Misaki occasionally chattering away about one subject or another.

Yuji rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, before taking out a black and white packaged box. "Oi, Seishiro-kun! Catch!"

It was a thin cardboard box emblazoned with Monokuma's face. Seishiro wrinkled his nose. "Monokuma seriously made biscuits shaped like his face? Is there any normal food in there?"

"What's wrong with my delicious face, ya punk?!" Monokuma's voice echoed through the speakers. "You gotta eat that or eat dirt!"

Misaki groaned. "Have you got anything better to do than stalk the security cameras and give us stupid personal announcements?" She yelled.

"Upupupu, a good headmaster has to check in on the wellbeing of his students, right?"

"That's gotta be against some law, invading people's personal lives like that," Ryousei cried.

"I doubt Monokuma has a regard for any laws right about now, since he's encouraging murder and all that." Amaya kicked her feet up onto the table.

Yuji finished his search of the kitchen, heading back to the table. "Everything's either raw or that weird Monokuma brand stuff," he said. "Still, we got enough to last us a good while."

Seishiro unsealed the box and tore open the packet, tipping Monokuma-shaped biscuits onto a plate resting on the table.

Amaya grabbed a handful and unelegantly shoved a few into her mouth. "Tastes less like crap than I expected," she crunched through a face full of biscuit. "Or maybe I'm just starving." She leant back in her chair, quickly being met with a loud clunk as her sword's sheath collided with the seat.

Seishiro fidgeted uncomfortably. "Is that actually a sword?" He gestured at the intricate looking golden sheath.

"Huh? Yeah, I use it in performances," she replied casually. "Oh, wait." She pulled a face. "Being encouraged to murder. Right."

Seishiro shrugged, reaching for another biscuit. "It's alright. I mean, I'm probably coming off as super paranoid right now."

Amaya shook her head. "You obviously haven't met that composer chick yet. She's barricaded herself in her room, screaming about someone coming to kill her." Raising an eyebrow, she readjusted herself on the chair. "I don't think we've properly met. I'm **Shitori Amaya** , **SHSL Capoeirista**. Bit of a mouthful, I know." She extended her hand for a handshake from across the table.

"Wow, and I thought mine was complicated. Nishimura Seishiro, Pyrotechnician." He shook her firm hand, introducing himself for what felt like the hundredth time already.

"Cool," she replied earnestly. "Hey, you checked out the dorms yet? As far as I can tell, they're pretty personalised. Kinda disconcerting how Monokuma knows so much about us, but I'm not complaining."

"I should probably get a look," he said, standing up from the table. "See you later?"

Keiji, noticing Seishiro moving towards the door, stood up as well. "Are you leaving us, Nishimura-kun?"

"Yeah, I was just gonna do some exploring."

Keiji nodded. "Very well, then." He made a sign that Seishiro didn't recognise with his hand. "Good luck."

"Bye!" Yuji called from the kitchen, followed by a quiet chorus of goodbyes.


	5. P-5: Introductions

Seishiro started back down the corridor, taking the path that Keiji had pointed out. He entered a slightly open area, a corridor splitting into two. Taking the left side, he realised that these were the dorm rooms. Monokuma had decided on a weird way to label them, he thought upon passing pixelated figures of Shigeko, Amaya and Etsuko printed on each door. _Crap_ , he had then promptly realised. He was on the girls' side.

Half jogging to the end of the corridor, he turned right and doubled back on the other side. Finding his own door, he pushed it to no avail before noticing the black scanner. He fumbled for his ElectroID, scanned it and opened the door.

Seishiro stood in a decently sized room resembling that of a hotel. The walls were a freshly painted grey, and a simple bathroom sat to the left of the entrance, opposite a closet. Curiously, he opened it to find a couple of outfits that looked like the sort of thing he would usually wear, alongside a bathrobe patterned like Monokuma's face. He grimaced at the thought of wearing it.

The main area of the room housed a small bed with grey and red sheets and a writing desk in the corner beside a full-length mirror on a stand. A fluffy rug and an armchair sat to the side, and a poster for a band that he liked was stuck to the wall over a bedside table. Rather uncomfortably, he had also noticed a security camera and speaker in the corner of the roof.

Seishiro dug through the drawers of the desk and found a toolkit wrapped in thin plastic with a folded piece of paper sitting on top. He opened the sheet, but immediately realised that it held detailed instructions as to how to deliver a killing blow with the contents of the toolkit. Dropping the paper, he slammed the drawer shut.

"A delicate flower such as yourself shouldn't be wandering around alone," an ominous-sounding male voice spoke. "You may well run into some...unforseen dangers."

Seishiro raised an eyebrow. Sure, to be Super High School Level you'd have to be a little quirky, he supposed, but he hoped this person was joking.

"Ah, I am certain that I am able to handle myself." This second voice was soft, and enunciated every word very clearly.

Crossing into the other side of the dorms, he witnessed the two conversing. One was a boy with neat brown hair and a fancy-looking suit, the other a girl with faded purple hair in a bun and a lacy, long black dress. They both noticed Seishiro, the girl excusing herself and hastily entering her room.

"Ah, what a shame," The boy in the suit proclaimed dramatically.

Seishiro cleared his throat. "Should I be concerned?"

"Oh, nothing to worry yourself about." He turned to face Seishiro, smiling. "I don't believe I've made your acquaintance?"

"Uh..." He wasn't sure whether he should be speaking in the same flowery language, feeling somewhat inclined to. Instead, he stumbled over his words. "I-I'm Nishimura Seishiro! Super High School Level! Um, pyrotechnician!" He awkwardly half-yelled the last few words.

"Awestruck? At a loss for words?" He laughed bitterly. "As for myself, 'tis none other than **Oshima Katsuo**!" Katsuo placed a hand on his chest and bowed, closing his eyes. "Writer of world-class, award-winning plays! Touted as the modern-day Shakespeare! Or, as they say, the **Super High School Level Playwright**." He cracked one eye open, giving Seishiro a watchful look. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," replied Seishiro, although he didn't quite mean it. Katsuo's vibe was very much door that the purple-haired girl had disappeared into cracked open a slit, before immediately closing again.

"Anyway," said Katsuo. "I do believe that I've frightened that girl witless. I suppose now it's time for me to...exit stage left?" He chuckled at his own joke, walking backwards a few steps before turning to leave the dormitory area.

The door creaked open again and this time the girl stepped out, smoothing her dress down. Her neat bangs covered one eye, and a white flower-shaped fascinator decorated with silver beads affixed itself to her bun. "Goodness," she said calmly. "He was beginning to irritate me with that prose. To speak the truth, I have little idea what to do when faced with these situations."

Seishiro stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I kinda get that too."

"Ah," replied the girl. "My name is **Aihara Umeko**. Please, do not be alarmed, but I am...ahem, the **Super High School Level Mortician**."

"I guess we're birds of a feather," he smiled. "I'm Nishimura Seishiro, the Super High School Level Pyrotechnician. I get a lot of people misinterpreting my talent."

Umeko offered a reserved laugh. "I suppose we are. Hm, I never was fond of the "Super High School Level" monikers. They sound like the makings of a child," she spoke.

"Yeah, it weirded me out to begin with too. Although, being trapped in a school with an evil teddy bear probably tops that on the weirdness scale."

"Monokuma? No, I was never fond of him either. But is anyone, really?" Umeko sighed. "Perhaps I shall go to the cafeteria? I feel as if I haven't eaten since last night. Quite unbecoming. Did you wish to accompany me?" She inquired.

"I was just there," replied Seishiro. "I feel like I should get in some more exploring while I can." He made his way out of the dormitory area, the mortician following a few steps behind.

Umeko nodded, lifting her skirt slightly and vanishing in the direction of the cafeteria.

Seishiro took a left, coming back to the main corridor. He uneasily slid open a few doors, finding a storage room and an uneventful classroom housing a whiteboard and desks. He saw a flight of stairs leading upwards, which he had decided to ignore for the time being. The second classroom he had found, however, was much more interesting, if only for the person standing in it, rummaging furiously through desks and drawers. He wore a heavy, dark grey coat with fur around the collar, which wasn't bulky enough to hide his figure. His wavy hair reached down to his chin, clearly bleached a very pale blonde. Rather alarmingly, he had a sniper rifle strapped to his back. He turned, grey eyes giving Seishiro a pointed glare.

"Move," said the boy plainly.

Seishiro stumbled out of the way as he came to search through the containers behind him. "W-what are you doing?"

"Looking for a way out," he said.

"O-oh. Is this the part where you-"

" **Mitsukuri Takehiko**. **SHSL Sniper**. I know it makes me suspicious," he interrupted.

"I'm Nishimura Seishiro, pyrotechnician." Seishiro introduced himself once more. "Um...you have a rifle," he pointed out sheepishly.

"Wonderful observation, Captain Obvious." Takehiko shot back sarcastically. "It's not loaded, and there's no ammunition anywhere."

"Oh," Seishiro replied, still uneasy.

Takehiko sighed. "I'm not careless enough to let anybody take it. If someone dies by this, it has to be me." He left the classroom, pushing past Seishiro who followed a few steps behind his brisk walk. "I don't know why you're intent on following me," he said.

Seishiro shrugged.

They walked down to the end of the hallway, reaching a glass door. He could see through it to a large greenhouse, containing a large variety of plants in pots. A tall and bulky boy in a plaid shirt and overalls stood, inspecting the plants. He had short, messy black hair, and startled when Takehiko slammed the door open.

"O-oh. Huh? Um, hi?" he offered uncertainly. The sniper ignored him, only giving a grunt in reply as he walked past.

"Hey," said Seishiro.

"Oh. Uh, have we met?"

"I don't think so."

"Well. Sorry if this is awkward," he muttered. "I'm not the best with people. Anyway, I'm **Toshimi** **Yoshikazu** , **Super High School Level Gardener**. Or botanist or something, I guess."

Seishiro nodded. "I get where you're coming from. I mean, I much prefer staying in the background of things. I'm Nishimura Seishiro, SHSL Pyrotechni-"

"Nishimura-san! Move!" Takehiko's voice cut him off, and he instinctively scrambled out of the way as a soil-filled flowerpot smashed against the glass.

"Oi!" Yoshikazu yelled. "What're you doing?!"

Takehiko pelted another small pot at the greenhouse wall before hoisting a huge, empty one and striking the glass once more. He ran forward, grabbing the largest shard from the flowerpot and shattering it against the wall.

Yoshikazu, certain that the sniper had something against flowerpots, sprinted up behind him and picked him up off the ground by the armpits. Takehiko let out an indignant shout and elbowed his attacker hard in the ribs, causing the larger boy to drop him.

"H-hey! Stop, stop!" Seishiro raised his arms in a defensive stance, as if the others were about to turn their wrath on him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Yoshikazu bellowed. "That was a _Colobanthus quitensis_ , one of the only two flowering plants in Antarctica! I've never grown and studied one before! Y-you probably killed it!"

"Is the safety of your useless plant worth sixteen lives?" Takehiko retorted coldly, making a violent gesture. "All of our lives are at stake here, yours included, and you care about some shrub that you can find another one of just metres away?"

The gardener cried out, frustrated. "I already tried to break out! My priority now is to stop anyone from getting murdered! And besides, If Nishimura-san were to die right now, and I said that it didn't matter because we can find another human being nearby, would you care?"

Takehiko half-laughed incredulously. "Plants aren't people," he began, but was interrupted by Monokuma's signature laugh.

"Upupupu! Those glass walls are multi-layered and as strong as steel, so there'll be no hope of breaking out!" Monokuma ended the announcement but came back on a few seconds later. "They're also expensive as hell, so you guys had better appreciate the time and money I'm putting into this!"

Takehiko seethed with rage. Suddenly, the door to the greenhouse burst open and Watanabe Etsuko stood in the doorway, looking around frantically and gasping for breath.

"Guys? What's going on? I heard screaming and glass breaking," she forced out. Seeing Seishiro, she gasped. "Nishimura-kun! You're okay, right?"

"Eh? Watanabe-san?" Seishiro said."Yelling like that, I was sure you were coming to tell us that someone had died!"

"Oh," she replied, running a hand through her wavy side tail. "Well, _I_ thought someone was dying."

Takehiko pushed past them both with a sigh. "I was trying to break us out, but someone was being obstructive. Pretty suspicious in my book." He turned at the door, folding his arms and giving Yoshikazu a pointed look. "I know you're thinking that I'm probably one to talk, but for how long are you all going to sit here like sheep?" he grumbled before leaving the area.

"Jeez, that guy," complained Etsuko. "I mean, he's just abrasive. He's hell-bent on getting us out, but could he be any less of a jerk about it?"

Seishiro sighed. "At least he's doing something. And hey, Toshimi-san? Are you okay?"

The black-haired boy groaned. "Fine," he replied, tapping his fingers against his side.

"You're...much louder and scarier when you're angry," noted Seishiro.

"Oh. Sorry if I scared you?" Yoshikazu said, somewhat tentatively.

"No, it's all good."

Etsuko abruptly grabbed Seishiro's wrist, turning him around. He startled at the sudden contact, almost losing his balance.

"Guys! Look!" The energetic comedian pointed her finger to the scenery visible from the greenhouse walls, keeping her grip on Seishiro's wrist. The sun was setting, washing the white landscape with indistinct hues of orange, purple and pink. It was breathtaking.

"This...this is the sort of thing I live for," said Yoshikazu. "It's nice to see that there's a bright side to being stuck in this hellhole."

Etsuko poked out her tongue. "Sorry to ruin the moment, but my point was half 'look at the pretty sunset', and half 'the sun's going down, can we eat dinner?'"

"Wait," interrupted Seishiro. "We're in Antarctica, right? I don't know what season it is, but I'm pretty sure daylight hours are weird down here." He pulled his ElectroID from his pocket, checking the time. "It's just past 4:00," he said.

Etsuko looked defeated for a moment, before brightening again. "Aww, but I guess now's as good of a time for dinner as any other!"

Suddenly, the lights flicked on in both the greenhouse and the corridor visible to the trio. Etsuko jumped a little, surprised.

Meanwhile, Yoshikazu had taken a brush and pan from the corner, scooping up broken terracotta and potting mix.

"Need a hand?" Seishiro began picking up the largest pieces of the flowerpots and dumping them out, Etsuko following suit.

When they were near-finished, Yoshikazu looked up at the other two. "I can finish up here," he said. "If you want, you can go check around."

"You sure?" Etsuko asked. When she only received a nod, she sighed. "Nishimura-kun, come on!"

Seishiro waved as he left, following Etsuko down the hallway. "Hey, Watanabe-san?"

"Hm?" The girl in question raised an eyebrow.

"Did you want to check out the second floor?" He gestured at the staircase he had passed by earlier.

Etsuko shook her head, her side tail bouncing. "I tried, it's blocked off by a locked door. The rules said we couldn't tamper with them, right?"

"Damn," Seishiro replied.

"Seems like there's a lot of stuff Monokuma's intent on keeping us away from," she muttered, before lightening her tone. "Anyway, I was thinking we just chill out in the cafeteria until we get everyone for dinner."

"Good plan," he returned.


	6. P-6: Introductions

Reaching the cafeteria, Seishiro saw Umeko, Keiji and Ryousei at the table. He came to take a seat opposite the plum-haired mortician, Etsuko plopping down next to him. Umeko waved politely. Making small talk and sipping drinks, the rest of the group slowly filed in over the next hour or so.

Katsuo came to sit down next to Umeko, prompting her to move one seat away. With a defeated sigh, he moved away and she returned to her original seat. Etsuko tried to stifle a laugh.

"Hey," called Yuji, half-falling onto the seat on the other side of Seishiro. The barista began to chat earnestly with Etsuko, with Seishiro only occasionally adding his opinion by virtue of literally being in the middle of the conversation.

With the cafeteria mostly filled up, Keiji, who sat at the end of the table, stood up as he clapped his hands together. "Now, is everybody here?" The yogi called.

Sitting opposite him, Misaki shook her head. "Kawaguchi-san," she said. "Well, to be honest, I don't think she's left her room more than once this entire day."

Seishiro stood, speaking uncertainly. "Uh, maybe I can go get her? I haven't met Kawaguchi-san yet," he added.

"Sure," replied Misaki.

"Hey, can I come with?" Ryousei jumped out of his seat eagerly.

Seishiro nodded, and he and the blonde sailor headed in the direction of the dorm rooms.

"So, what does a Super High School Level Pyrotechnician even do?"

"Huh? Oh." Seishiro scratched the back of his head. "Well, usually it's just special effects and stuff. You know, flames, smoke, fireworks?"

He could practically see Ryousei's eyes sparkle in admiration. "Whoa! You actually know how to do that stuff? That's so cool! I mean, I'm just good at navigating and I know my way around ships. It's nowhere near as interesting."

"Don't say that, navigating is way more useful than fireworks," Seishiro replied.

"Well, I guess you're right!" Ryousei grinned brightly.

They had reached the dormitory area, and Seishiro found himself standing before the only 8-bit figure that he didn't recognise. He knocked twice on the door, which creaked open a little before slamming open against the wall.

"Eyaaaah!" A feminine voice screamed. "There's a murderer!" Before he could process what was going on, a blunt pain erupted in his stomach and he fell ungracefully onto his behind.

A young-looking girl with shoulder-length bright blue hair stood in the doorway, eyes closed and madly flailing a wooden broom around. She wore a light green cardigan and a fluffy light blue dress decorated with music notes. He assumed that she had hit him with the broom, which was now being swung dangerously close to his head.

"Whoa, whoa!" Ryousei gasped. "C-calm down!"

Without warning, Amaya burst into the dorm area with a cry. She ran in front of Seishiro, then wrenched the broom out of the girl's hands and snapped it cleanly in half over her knee. She tossed the halves aside before settling into a fighting stance. "Who's being murdered?!"

"Aiiieeee! They're ganging up on me!" The blue haired-girl shrieked again. She fell back into her room and slammed the door.

"Wait, no! Kawaguchi-san, I'm sorry!" The capoeirista cried.

"What was that?" Ryousei whispered.

Amaya groaned. "Is this one of those times where I jump to conclusions and cause a huge misunderstanding?"

"I have no idea," replied Seishiro to both. He turned his attention back to the closed door. "Hey, no one's trying to murder anyone here. I mean, it's only been half a day. Have a little faith in us," he called.

The door creaked open a little, showing a sliver of the girl's face. "Oh...w-well! I'm **Kawaguchi Katsumi**! **I'm the Super High School Level Composer**!" She squeaked out.

"Alright," said Seishiro. "I'm Nishimura Sei-"

"I don't need to know!" Katsumi cried out and slammed the door again.

"Come on, seriously?!" Seishiro, exasperated, banged against the door once more. Ryousei stood back, uncertain.

The composer's voice replied hastily from the other side. "W-what do you want? Do you just want to lure me out to-"

"NO!" Amaya roared, ear-splittingly loud. "THERE! IS! DINNER!" With each word, she kicked the door, its hinges rattling.

"W-wait, no messing with locked doors!" Ryousei stuttered fearfully.

"Do you want to starve or something?!" The dark-haired girl ignored him, slamming a palm against the door.

Katsumi's door opened for the third time, and the short composer stood, shaking a little. "Well, y-you could've said something earlier! That was traumatic..." she said, looking at her feet.

"Ooh, it worked. Sorry about that. Got carried away," Amaya mumbled an apology.

The four made their way back into the cafeteria in awkward silence, earning a few strange looks from the other students as they reentered. Sitting back down between Etsuko and Yuji, Seishiro grumbled incoherently.

"The hell happened in there?" Yuji asked.

"I could hear it," added Etsuko, neatening her fringe. "Honestly, if Ichisada-chan hadn't convinced me otherwise, I would've come running again."

The aforementioned starry-eyed astrologer, sitting on the opposite side of Etsuko, spoke calmly. "I told you...everything would be alright," she said, cocking her head and causing a light blonde lock to fall in front of her face. "Although...I can only read the stars...from the greenhouse. It...isn't sufficient."

Seishiro shook his head. "It's fine. People were just being obstructive." He opened his mouth to speak again, but Keiji had stood up again at the head of the table, Misaki standing by the corner. Seishiro felt as if those two had already become the de facto leaders of the group, almost like parents.

Keiji spoke, calm and confident. "Now that we've gathered everybody here, I would like to make an announcement. Maybe we should set certain meal times, so that everyone can gather here like a meeting. I'll say, breakfast at 7:45, lunch at 12:30 and dinner at 6:00. All in agreement?"

"No way! Breakfast is too early!" Yamamoto Shigeko complained. The food critic tossed a pink pigtail over her shoulder, crossing her arms.

Misaki sighed, pulling at her fluffy white jacket. "Everyone that's fine with breakfast at 7:45, raise your hands." The agreement was almost unanimous.

Shigeko harrumphed and turned away. "Fine, then! See if I care!"

"Alright. Everybody, keep these times in mind. Now, any suggestions for what we should discuss next?" The white-haired yogi asked.

"Kitchen duty," said Shigeko.

"Preventing murder," called Yoshikazu.

"Finding a way out," spoke Takehiko.

"Not freezing to death," said Naoki.

"That's your fault for not wearing enough," replied Komi.

"Hey, you're one to talk!"

"I'm really hungry, can we just eat?" Etsuko proclaimed.

"Order in the court!" Misaki shouted, banging on the table with her palm. The makeup artist spoke again when everyone was silent. "Okay, we're all hungry, confused and tired. Let's work out our menial needs first. Who's got faith in their cooking skills?"

"I'll only eat the best food there is," Shigeko called.

"We are all trapped here, so suck it up, princess." Takehiko muttered icily as Umeko gave an annoyed "tch".

"My my, such callous words used against…well, somebody who clearly deserves it. Kudos," Katsuo remarked, brushing his brown hair with a comb pulled from his suit pocket.

"Stop getting sidetracked," Misaki spoke loudly.

Working out kitchen duty took longer than expected, mostly due to Shigeko interrupting. In the end, Yuji had been placed in charge of the kitchen, much to the food critic's chagrin, with only him, Seishiro, Misaki, Hitomi, Ryousei and Katsumi being trusted to actually cook for everyone.

Yuji had dragged Seishiro into the kitchen with him, the two hastily putting together a large pot of curry. Dinner went by uneventfully, sixteen plates piling up in the dishwasher.

"Nishimura-san, Yuji-kun, thank you for that." Keiji spoke, the dark-skinned yogi standing again. "Now, our next foremost concern - preventing a murder. I doubt that anyone has the capacity to kill for selfish reasons, but anything could change over time."

"Buddy system," yelled Naoki abruptly. "You can't go anywhere alone, and if you do then you gotta tell someone else where you're going. Make sense?"

"Yes," replied Keiji. "Now we have two rules, the meetings during mealtimes and a buddy system. Any other suggestions?"

Yoshikazu slammed a palm onto the table. "We confiscate anything that can be used for a murder," he said.

"Impossible," retorted Komi. "How are people supposed to cook without knives? Or clean wounds without antiseptics? And anything could be used as a weapon in the right hands," the light-blue-haired girl spoke calmly yet coldly.

"What's the point of all this?!" Katsumi cried out suddenly. "It doesn't matter! Someone is going to snap, and go crazy, and kill someone. It's inevitable!"

"Excuse me, young lady?" Etsuko leapt up abruptly and pointed sharply at the composer, who flinched. "This sort of gloomy behaviour is not acceptable in a school environment! I'm sure we're all freaking out, but at least try to think positively! Negativity spreads like a virus, and if we don't fight it off, we're all done for."

Komi sighed. "Way to kill the mood, huh? Hooray for generic speeches," she said sarcastically.

Etsuko gave her a strange look. "Seriously, everyone. There's no chance that we'll get out with our sanity intact if we've got that sort of mindset."

"T-that's right!" Seishiro finally found his voice and the courage to speak. "We're all just normal people, not murderers. Let's not give into despair, hey?"

Etsuko grinned at him, hopping down from the table.

Misaki smiled kindly. "Wise words. Anyway, I'm thinking we're all tired, confused and grumpy. How about we just leave these two rules in place, and everyone gets a good rest?"

With minimal grumbling, the students filed out of the cafeteria in a disorganised clump. Seishiro followed, entering his dorm and sprawling onto his bed. He laid awake for what felt like hours, before settling into a half-asleep state.

"It is now 10pm, and night hours have commenced! The lights outside have been dimmed and the heaters have been turned down. Certain areas will be off limits until daytime hours. Good night!" The dissonantly cheerful sound of Monokuma's voice blasted through the speaker in his room, startling Seishiro awake.

 _Bastard_ , he thought to himself.


	7. 1-1: Daily Life

The next morning, Seishiro woke to Monokuma's pre-recorded announcement blaring through a speaker.

"Rise and shine, students! It is now 7am, and daytime hours have commenced! Most off-limit rooms are now free to enter and the heaters have been turned back up! Happy murdering!"

'Happy murdering'? Really? Seishiro wanted to close his eyes again and pretend that he was anywhere but here, but he couldn't will himself to do that after fully processing what he had been forced into.

He stood up, head spinning, and tiredly stumbled over to his boarded window. Flinching at the frigid cold of the metal coverings, he peeked out to see mostly darkness, a faint twilight covering the landscape. It was desolate. Too desolate, even for Antarctica, Seishiro suddenly realised. He had something to tell everyone else.

Seishiro checked his ElectroID, showing the date and time. 7:04 a.m., 21 April. Based off that, he supposed that the sun wouldn't rise for another hour or two. Going through his regular morning routine, trying to create an illusion of normalcy, he finished and headed towards breakfast. 7:45, he repeated to himself.

In his haste, the pyrotechnician found himself in the cafeteria twenty minutes early. The only other inhabitant of the room was Toshimi Yoshikazu, the overall-clad gardener working the coffee machine in the kitchen. He noticed Seishiro and opened his mouth to speak, but seemingly reconsidered and closed it again.

"So," started Seishiro awkwardly.

"Yeah?"

"How're things?"

"Fine."

"For a murderous hellhole."

"That's true."

Fourteen tired students filed in as haphazardly as they left last night, in a half-asleep jumble. Food was served quickly and calmly.

Shigeko poked her pancakes tentatively. "You know, if this were any regular restaurant, this would barely pass 2 out of 5 stars." The pigtailed food critic pressed a finger to her chin, appearing deep in thought. "But if I take our...circumstances into mind, I'd bump it up to about 4 stars."

Yuji grinned, mumbling a thanks through a mouthful of food. He turned to Seishiro, whispering. "Has the great deity Yamamoto Shigeko taken mercy on me? Oh, I feel blessed!" He proclaimed as dramatically as he could at a volume that Shigeko couldn't hear.

Seishiro laughed back at him. "Hey, Yuji-kun. Remind me to say something about where we are, later."

The barista raised an eyebrow, nodding.

The rest of the meal passed as uneventfully as last night, and the short meeting commenced.

Yuji nudged Seishiro under the table and mouthed something unintelligible at him.

Oh, right. "Uh, everyone?" Seishiro stood, suddenly commandeering the group's attention. "I know it's a little early to be speculating and solving the great mysteries of the world, but I don't think we're in Antarctica."

"Makes sense for that bear to lie about our location, makes it harder for rescuers to find us." Etsuko agreed.

"Hey, hold on. How do we explain the temperature and the landscape?" Amaya yelled, leaning forwards.

Naoki shrugged. "Greenscreens? And maybe we're in some giant refrigerator?" The discus thrower said half-jokingly.

"A giant refrigerator," echoed Komi, deadpan.

"Just as logical as a sadistic, talking teddy bear," Takehiko replied, giving her a piercing stare.

"Look," said Misaki, shaking her head. "We can figure out the great mysteries of the world after we get rescued, or break out, or whatever."

A few other students murmured their assent, and after another few pointless discussions, everyone scattered around the room and left to explore.

Seishiro busied himself with emptying the dishwasher, finding solace in monotonous tasks. Just as he finished, Umeko approached from behind and greeted him.

"Nishimura-san? I apologise for interrupting," she said, adjusting her white fascinator.

"Huh? You weren't interrupting, it's fine. Did you need something?"

Umeko nodded serenely. "Oh! Well, then. I noticed an entire corridor that I hadn't explored yesterday, and in accordance with the rules, I am not allowed to be alone." She held out her ElectroID and motioned at a corridor to the north. Rather disturbingly, the room at the end was labelled with Monokuma's face.

"I haven't been down there either, I don't think. But that place," he pointed at the Monokuma room, "seems pretty foreboding."

"True," replied the mortician. "But I doubt that Monokuma will execute us for exploring."

Seishiro shrugged. "We don't know his limits."

The pair made their way to the aforementioned corridor. Two doors lined the hall on each side, and at the end lay a large set of menacing metal doors blocked off by a grate.

"Maybe...maybe we shouldn't go over there," Seishiro said fearfully, stumbling into the first door on his left.

"Perhaps later," replied Umeko, following him.

The room was an infirmary, stretching down the hall and encompassing the other door on that side as well. Rows of neatly made beds under boarded windows lined the room, and cabinets and drawers filled with medicinal supplies rested against the walls. Rifling through a chest of drawers at the far end of the room was Oshima Katsuo, who noticed the two enter. Shitori Amaya sat on one of the beds, aimlessly swinging her legs.

"Ah, I see you've come to seek me out," the suit-clad playwright mused. "Simply couldn't stay away?"

"Shut it," called Amaya. "No one needs to hear about your inflated ego. And besides, you followed me here just to heckle me the whole time, right?"

"Your words, they wound me!" Katsuo cried. "And, as you've undoubtedly forgotten with that minuscule intellect of yours, no one is allowed to go alone during daytime hours."

Amaya snorted. "Piss off. I can handle myself. Comes with the talent, y'know?"

Umeko shook her head at the darker-haired girl. "And what if you were planning a murder?"

"Mm. True," she conceded.

"Ahem," said Katsuo, drawing attention. "There are far too many chemicals in this place that could be used as poisons. I suggest we take inventory of the medical supplies." He took a clipboard, pen and some paper from a drawer.

"I shall come with you," spoke Umeko. "After all, you seem hardly like the most trustworthy of characters."

He swooned melodramatically, mocking her. "My, the most beautiful rose has the sharpest of thorns..."

Amaya rolled her eyes at the exchange before patting the bed opposite hers. "Hey, Nishimura-kun. Sit!"

Seishiro obliged, landing on the hard mattress. "I feel like we should be doing something," he said to her.

"Nah. I mean, not now. Uh, sorry about the yelling and breaking the broom last night." Amaya ran a hand through her hair.

"Huh? That's fine! I wasn't fazed, really."

She sighed. "I jump to conclusions really easily, so I guess you should be prepared for a crap ton of misunderstandings."

"Hey, sorry if this is a personal question, but do you...uh, have-"

"ADHD?" She interrupted him suddenly. "Wait, is that what you were going to say?" When Seishiro nodded, she gave a little fist-pump. "Most people don't think of that. Or, y'know, go up to me and say it. Not that I mind."

Seishiro shook his head. "I did a lot of people-watching. And my little sister has...er, had it. If she grew out of it, I'm not really sure now."

"I feel like I haven't grown out of a lot of things, and I guess I'm pretty immature sometimes."

"You're mature enough to recognise your shortcomings, at least." Seishiro replied.

"Pfft. Not mature enough to act on them," she said before loudly cracking her knuckles, making Seishiro wince. "So the thing is, when I was younger, my parents were police officers, and I was all 'I'm gonna deliver justice to the world!'" She singsonged in a mock falsetto at the last phrase, making air quotes. "I thought I forgot about that, but I guess I've still got those desires in the back of my head somewhere."

Seishiro nodded. "Hey, sorry to pry, but what's your thing with Fujiwara-san? Wait, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he backpedalled.

She shook her head in reply, but her expression flickered for a moment at the mention of the blue-haired cheerleader. "Nah, it's fine. I get the feeling that I don't know the full story, but I can give you a rundown. So, Fujiwara-chan and I went to the same middle school, and well, she was this huge bitch. I did meet her and I'd say she wasn't...pleasant."

"I don't know about you, but from first impressions she doesn't seem much like that. I just think she's reserved and snarky, I suppose." He shrugged, recalling his minimal interactions with Komi.

"That's why I feel like there's more going on than I know." Amaya rubbed the back of her neck, cracking it a little. "Anyway, I'd heard that she got one of my friends to steal the answer sheets for the end-of-year exams. He got in so much trouble, and I kinda freaked out and punched her in the face. Repeatedly," she winced.

"That was...that was personal, I guess," Seishiro replied.

"Dammit," said Amaya, realisation dawning. "She's probably gonna kill me if she hears that I told people. Just keep it between us."

He cracked a smile. "Sure, secret's safe here." He paused suddenly, looking around. "Hey, where did Aihara-san and Oshima-san go?"

"Probably exploring. We should go find them, hey?"

"Why not?" Seishiro grinned.

The duo found Umeko and Katsuo in what Seishiro presumed was the laundry, as a few washing machines and dryers rested against the wall. Otherwise, the room was rather empty. Most interesting was now the fact that Shigeko had somehow come into the room, and was fuming in front of the other two. The many people and small space made Seishiro feel a little claustrophobic.

"Honestly, you were running around alone?" Katsuo muttered, pressing his fingers to his temple. "I'm all for playing this game, but it's hardly any fun when someone dies so preventably. Then again, your death would simply be chalked up to natural selection, so..."

The food critic huffed. "I don't need to listen to what you commoners say- Hey! You!" She noticed Seishiro and Amaya enter, and pointed suddenly at them. "Get over here and defend my case!"

"What?" Seishiro whispered, making eye contact with Umeko.

The mortician silently cocked her head, shrugging slightly.

"I told you," complained Shigeko, "that all we have to do is sit here and wait! Daddy will find me, and he's gonna rescue us!"

"Have you that much faith in your father?" Umeko inquired.

"Yes! He's the owner of the Golden Leaf restaurant chain, so of course he has the time and resources to rescue us! In fact, there's probably worldwide outrage at the fact that I've gone missing!"

"Lucky rich child," whispered Amaya.

Katsuo drummed his fingers against the wall. "Golden Leaf...that's one of the high-end ones, isn't it?"

Umeko pursed her lips. "There is merit in your statement. However, we cannot ascertain the state of the outside world at this present moment."

"What I'm saying is that none of this is necessary!" Shigeko replied.

"Better to be safe than sorry, I guess," said Seishiro.

"Fine, fine," conceded Shigeko. "But you'll be wrong!"

The pyrotechnician let out a sigh before questioning the other students. "Anyway, did you find anything useful?"

"The other room is a storage room, good sir." Katsuo said loftily. "We were caught up here, and didn't have time to inspect that strange gate.

"It gives me the creeps," shuddered Shigeko. "Could be, like, a morgue or something."

Umeko looked a little offended. "There is nothing wrong with a mortuary," she asserted.

With minimal complaining, the small group made their way to the imposing double doors. They seemed akin to an elevator, but Monokuma's face was engraved shallowly on the front, the gap between the doors splitting its white and black sides apart.

Shigeko stuck her hand through the vertical bars in front of the door, tracing the engraving. "Jeez, what a narcissist."

"Hey, ya think this is the way out?" Amaya called.

Katsuo shook his head. "It's far too obvious for that," he replied.

"Ding ding! Mr. Casanova is right!" Monokuma's voice blasted twice as loud as usual from the speakers on either side of the door. Seishiro jumped in surprise, and Shigeko instinctively retreated from the door. "Oopsies! Sound production team, you're fired!" The voice returned to its normal volume.

"M-Monokuma!" Seishiro yelled, as if the bear couldn't hear him. "Where does this lead, and and will I be executed for trying to get in?!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely, that's the elevator to the Trial Room! It's where you'll go to debate out the whodunnit when one of your classmates kicks the bucket!" Monokuma replied cheerily.

Umeko stiffened. "Let us pray that we never have a need to go in there."

"Fair," said Seishiro. "We should...let's get out of here. See if anyone else found something useful."

The truth was, no one else did find anything remotely of use. Much to Yoshikazu's chagrin, there had already been multiple efforts to break out from the greenhouse, none of which accomplished anything.

One day of captivity. One day of vehement denial and silent acceptance. One day of getting to know the person who could turn and kill you at any moment. And if Seishiro knew what was to come, he would want this one day to last forever.


	8. 1-2: Daily Life

p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Each day following the first fell into the same monotonous pattern. By now, everyone had just about lost hope that the entire setup was an elaborate prank, and no sign of rescue had surfaced yet./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"It was the eighth day that broke the pattern, as Monokuma interrupted their morning with an unprecedented announcement./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Attention students! Please report for an assembly in the gym, where there'll be a little surprise for you! Attendance is mandatory, unless you're dead or maimed. Which you will be, if you don't show up! Upupupu!"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Yuji and Seishiro had been making small talk, leaning against the walls of the corridor, when the speakers blared./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"The barista winced. "That does not sound appealing," he muttered./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""You wanna be dead or maimed?" Seishiro held his arms out, shrugging. "Besides, the 'surprise' could be a good thing, depending on how merciful our host is."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Doubt it," snorted Yuji in reply. "Come on, let's go!"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"When they arrived, Seishiro found that the gym had been set up with sixteen computer monitors at desks separated by vertical partitions. A group of students congregated at the centre in front of the stage, which had its curtains closed. Etsuko waved cheerily./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"The rest of the students entered in strangely different ways, Katsumi sprinting and screaming in fear of being executed, and Amaya slamming into the closed door, Naoki tripping over behind her. On the opposite end of the spectrum, the final two, Hitomi and Takehiko, walked in slowly, calmly and almost leisurely./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"As if on cue, the curtains opened with a flourish, revealing Monokuma sporting a party hat and buzzer./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Surprise!" he yelled as confetti rained from the ceiling./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Confetti again?" Komi asked, running a hand through her blue ponytail. "I see you're a one-trick pony."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Hey!" Monokuma retorted. "I'm a bear, not a pony! And we're on a tight budget here! Anyways, since I'm feeling super-duper-extra-nice today, you get two surprises! That was the first one," he said, motioning to the fallen confetti. "Now, for your second surprise - find the seat with your name on it, stick the DVD in the player, plug in your headphones and hit the play button! Upupupupu..."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro squinted at the scrawly handwriting in permanent marker on the back of a chair, before deciding that it passed off well enough as his name. He picked up the disk by the monitor, habitually wiping it with his sleeve before inserting it into the player. The monitor instantaneously flickered to life. That usually doesn't happen, he noted to himself, putting on his allocated headphones./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"A wide-eyed schoolgirl with messy, shoulder-length brown hair turned on the camera, grinning ecstatically. She sat in a pastel-coloured bedroom, waving madly at the screen. Hideko, Seishiro realised. His younger sister and the biggest Hope's Peak fangirl he knew./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Onii-chan! Congratulations! My god, I can't believe I even know someone that's Super High School Level," Hideko squealed. "I mean, you're so lucky - no, you're talented! I wish I was lucky," she added with a giggle./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro smiled. Was this meant to lift his spirits?/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Anyway, I'm doing fine back here, we all are. I'm sure you're out there doing great things, and- eep!" The sound of somebody banging on a door startled Hideko, and she leapt out of her seat. Seishiro could make out loud angry voices in the background. "Uh, I'll be back," called Hideko at the camera, as she left her bedroom, leaving the video running./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"What happened next came all in a blur. Hideko's light footsteps pattered down the stairs./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""No! Stay upstairs!" His father's voice. Glass shattering. A scream. The screen flickered red. Gunshots rang. A wild shout, and one final shot echoed. The screen changed again, flashing an image of the bedroom with blood dripping from the walls. The video faded to static./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Is it real? Is it fake?" Monokuma's voice taunted through the headphones. "This is your first, despair-inducing motive! Murder within the next week, and you get to save the people you care about. How sweet! Upupupupu..."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"With a shout, Seishiro ripped off the headphones and backed away from the monitor, knocking over his chair. He reoriented himself, gasping for breath and looking around the room. Everyone else was in a similar state of disarray./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""It's not real, it's just a trick. None of this is real," repeated Misaki calmly to no one in particular. Her frizzy ponytail fanned out as she turned to talk to a hyperventilating Shigeko./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"The usually unfazed Komi fixated her eyes on something in the distance, expressionless, but the way she tightly scrunched the hem of her cheerleading uniform belied her true emotions. She turned sharply on her heel and marched out of the gym./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""...stronger than this. It's obviously staged." Seishiro heard snippets of Takehiko muttering to himself as he strode past, fists clenched./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Etsuko paced back and forth across the floor, forcing a bounce into her step. "Come on. Deep breaths. In...out. Don't freak out!"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""You- hey, you alright?" Yuji came up behind Seishiro, still looking visibly shaken./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""No- I mean- I don't know," he replied breathlessly./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""We should get out of here. I can feel the tension. I- I mean, I look like I'm handling it, but I'm definitely not. Am I even making sense?!" Yuji sputtered./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""No, you're not, and I have to get out of here before I- before somebody snaps. I-I'll meet you later," he said, making a dash out of the gym and leaving a confused Yuji in his wake./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"~~~/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Five minutes later, Seishiro found himself in the men's bathroom, gripping the edges of the sink like a vice and breathing heavily, scrutinising himself in the mirror. He swallowed the bile that rose in the back of his throat. He wasn't going to think about the video. He couldn't./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro barely noticed Ryousei enter behind him until the short sailor called out./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Eh? Nishimura-san? Are you okay?"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Is anyone okay?!" Seishiro sputtered, almost antagonistically. He caught himself after seeing Ryousei take a step back, fearful. "Sorry, I'm just...I'm just worked up, I guess. I shouldn't be making excuses."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"He shook his head. "No! I understand. How can anyone not be scared after seeing something like that? And from the look of mine, they must all be horrible things..." Ryousei had somewhat dropped his cheerful attitude, but was far from a breakdown./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Well, you look mostly unfazed to me," said Seishiro, turning off the tap and facing the other boy./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"He looked down, confused for a bit. "I guess I am...does this make me seem heartless?"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""No, it's not like that! I need to be unfazed. I mean, everything is coming out wrong, isn't it?" Seishiro smacked a hand to his forehead./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""It's fine!" replied Ryousei. "…to be honest, while I might look fine, I...I'm just the same as everyone else. I can still remember every detail on mine. It's haunting..."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro reentered the conversation. "From what I've seen, the motive was family, wasn't it?"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Uhh...I believe so," he confirmed. "I saw my parents at our house. It...it was burning down..."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""I saw- I mean, heard, my sister getting shot," replied Seishiro./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Ryousei looked sympathetic. "I know it's hard, imagining what could have happened to your family..."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro didn't reply and simply nodded. He could feel the pressure and the fear that he had felt slowly dying down. Being able to talk to someone about his worries left him reassured./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""B-but!" Ryousei suddenly yelled out, seemingly a bit flustered. "We can't give in! This is exactly what Monokuma wants. He wants us to freak out. We've got to stay strong! We just have to believe that the video is fake, and that our family will be okay!"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Seishiro looked at Ryousei, surprised. He hadn't expected a motivational speech from someone who seemed so passive. "Even though you say you're just the same as us, you're definitely handling this way better than I am, at least." /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"Ryousei blushed in embarrassment from the compliment. "Well... I suppose I've gotten used to this kind of feeling. I've always loved sailing. It makes me feel like I'm free to go anywhere and do whatever I want! So I've been working on ships since I was independent enough to handle myself. It's probably why Hope's Peak scouted me as the Super High School Level Sailor."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Probably?" Seishiro echoed jokingly. "I don't think you can get any less Super High School Level than that…"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Well, you never know," he replied with a laugh. "The thing is, I used to get homesick a lot, and worry that something might happen to them while I was on a trip. But my parents would always tell me to trust that they would be okay. And it was true, everything would always be fine after I came back! So right now, I just need to trust in that. It's the only thing that I can do for now. For my family's sake, and in order to leave this place... I just gotta be brave, and have faith."/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;"He faltered a little at the last sentence, but stayed smiling./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Hideaki-san..." Seishiro muttered at the blonde boy. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear something like this in a time of crisis, you know?"/p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545;""Oh! Really? I thought that if I could help some people, we'd be able to get out of here with spirits high," Ryousei replied./p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;" /p  
p style="margin: 0px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #454545; min-height: 14px;""If everybody thought like you, trusted like you, this place would be much kinder." Seishiro smiled. His worries remained in the back of his head, but now he could come to accept them with much more certainty./p 


	9. 1-3: Daily Life

Days had passed. The motive videos were no longer a constant reality, but remained a looming threat from Monokuma. Seishiro had pushed his thoughts away, but had begun to wonder how long he could survive in a confined space with the same fifteen people. At least there was some semblance of order, with set routines to follow and many students gravitating into their own friendship groups, not to mention the overarching presence of a murderous teddy bear for a headmaster.

 _One day after the next_ , thought Seishiro. _A neverending cycle._

It was on one of these repetitive days that Ichisada Hitomi managed to unnerve a good number of the students while eating breakfast.

"Something bad...will happen," the blonde astrologer murmured, just audible enough for the entire table to hear. "I can feel it. It's certain...soon." She closed her eyes, cleaned away her plate and wordlessly left.

Despite her meek looks, Hitomi proved to be stoic and dead serious when it came to many subjects, occasionally spouting a prediction or strange observation.

A few seconds of silence passed over the group before Yoshikazu spoke suddenly from next to Seishiro. "Buddy system," he called plainly.

Komi gave the gardener a pointed look. "The other fifteen of us are here. No one is out there to murder her."

"And after we leave?" Misaki asked. "Best to have people always monitoring each other."

"I think she's safe," replied Yuji mirthfully. "I mean, she was pretty confident about running off alone after saying that. And she predicts things, right? She told me exactly where my glasses were after I lost them yesterday."

Komi pressed her fingers to her temple. "Astrologers don't just predict the future like that-"

"I'm less worried about her dying and more about her preparing to kill someone," Shigeko interjected, giving a nonchalant shake of her pink pigtails. "It could all be a sham, and the 'something bad' bit is probably Ichisada-san planning something. That's gotta be right!"

"I'll go, and we can cut short this pointless discussion," said Takehiko, abruptly standing up and kicking his chair into place.

"And you had better not try anything." Katsuo pointed at the figure of the sniper leaning in the doorway.

He gave an incredulous grunt in reply and followed Hitomi's path.

"What was that?" Seishiro hissed at Yoshikazu.

The bulky gardener gave him a shrug. "I'd say that half of us are crazy."

"Well, I guess it's what you'd expect out of Hope's Peak. We're just going to have to live with this," he replied.

Seishiro tried the unforgivingly cold door handle of the greenhouse entrance for the third time. "Why is it locked?" he accused, still on edge from Hitomi's warning.

"Oh, uh, I did that." Yoshikazu mentioned from behind him, digging through his pockets for a key.

Seishiro raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Pesticides, weedkillers. Poisons." He fished out the key and unlocked the door, which creaked loudly in desperate need of oiling.

Seishiro still wasn't used to the bright snowy expanse that greeted him through the glass as he stepped over creeping vines in the greenhouse, now a blooming centre of life. The dirty metal shelves that were once neatly filled with terracotta pots had now been overtaken by plants climbing it as a trellis. It was surprising to see such a change in barely two weeks, but Seishiro supposed it was only natural with a Super High School Level Gardener in their midst.

Despite the heaters, Seishiro could still see his breath condense in the air, and he flinched from the frigid temperature of the glass wall when he tried to brush a finger over it. The glass, the only barrier between them and freedom. Or, he reconsidered rather grimly, the only barrier between uncertain death by murder and certain death by hypothermia.

"Nishimura-san." Yoshikazu's voice suddenly snatched Seishiro from his thoughts. "Is that selfish?"

"Wait, what?" Did he do something wrong? Wracking his brains to recent memories, he remembered nothing out of the ordinary. "Did I do something?"

"Oh, I shouldn't have worded it like that. I mean the thing with taking the keys. It's selfish to do that, like I'm claiming this place."

"You let them in when they ask," Seishiro replied, turning towards the gardener.

"Makes them have to go find me. I'm not that approachable." Yoshikazu buried his hands in his pockets. "And...is this a good time to apologise for that first day?"

Seishiro shrugged. "I wasn't concerned. Well, I was, kinda," he added, "but it's natural that you'd be on edge after Monokuma dropped the bomb back then."

A few moments of understanding silence passed.

"You're trying your hardest to make sure no one dies," noticed Seishiro. "You're locking down poisons, bringing things up at meetings..."

Yoshikazu nodded, before bluntly speaking. "Do you have something that you're unfailingly passionate about?"

Seishiro paused, unsure at the sudden change of subject. "Pyrotechnics? You know, my talent? I guess it's kind of a prerequisite to get into Hope's Peak."

"That's...yeah, you're right. And would you do everything you could to protect your passions?"

"I don't know. I get ticked off when someone gets it wrong, but I feel ashamed of it sometimes. It's a weird talent," mused Seishiro.

The black-haired gardener let out a short, sharp breath. "I'm passionate about my talent, I know. But I'm also passionate about life. Not just plants or anything that falls under my skills. Every person, every plant, every animal deserves a chance. And in a situation like this, I'm not going to allow anyone's life to be cut short before they achieve their beauty, their potential."

"Toshimi-san...I think I misjudged you." Seishiro spoke. "I...I thought you were unfriendly, or even some misanthrope. Now I see that you're the opposite of that."

"You really think that?" Yoshikazu turned to face the Antarctic landscape, a smile hinting at his lips. "Thank you. To me, everyone is the same. Their conditions and situations change them. Times like this bring out the best and the worst in people. I wonder how different things would've been if we met in a different time and place..."

Seishiro had opened his mouth to reply when a crash and an alarmed shout echoed from the hallway. A sinking feeling set in as he bolted to see the cause of the commotion, Yoshikazu in tow.

Much to his relief, nothing major had happened. A few quiet 'ow's came from Ryousei sitting on the ground, the sailor seemingly unharmed but soaked in water. Amaya stood next to him, asking questions. A metal bucket rolled by Seishiro's foot, and he smoothly picked it up.

"Hideaki-san? What happened?" Yoshikazu called out.

"I went into the classroom to get some writing supplies, but the bucket fell on me when I opened the door," Ryousei mumbled.

Kusuhara Naoki emerged from the direction of the dorm rooms, looking over the scene. It seemed that he still hadn't been able to wash out the pink flecks of dye in his light brown hair. "Seriously? I mean, it sucks, but it's just that bucket-on-door prank thing. Kinda immature if you ask me."

"There's got to be a point to this," Seishiro cut in abruptly.

Amaya shrugged. "It could just be a prank, I'd say."

"If this was seriously a prank then by now someone would've jumped out of a closet laughing," he replied.

Naoki flicked a curious glance towards a nearby storage room.

"He's got a point," said Ryousei. "Monokuma's not confessing to it, and no one has a reason to make a distraction now..."

Amaya shrugged. "Look, I'm just not gonna think about it, and forget that this ever happened in like, a week."

The group split from there, no one's words hiding the sudden uncertainty that filled the atmosphere. And, as it seemed, no one would likely forget these passing days.

Lunchtime came by, and as people settled into the cafeteria Amaya burst in, the door rattling on its hinges. Something sunk in Seishiro's stomach.

"Someone - one of you - took my sword," the black-haired capoeira practitioner shouted, banging her fist at the foot of the long table. A few students jumped in their seats.

"You lost it," replied Takehiko bluntly.

Amaya seethed at the assumption. "It was in my room, it's a small space, I'd be able to find it-!"

"No one can get into the dorm rooms," pointed out Misaki. "You probably misplaced it somewhere, Shitori-san."

Yoshikazu raised his hand. "A weapon went missing. Worst case scenario, someone's planning a murder. We should prepare for that."

"See, someone gets the point." She gestured at the gardener, still aggravated.

Seishiro sighed. "The most likely scenario is that you lost it, but Toshimi-san is right about the worst possibility. And it could happen, in a situation like this."

"T-that's definitely what's going to happen! We're going to go insane like this," stuttered Katsumi, the composer looking around frantically.

"That may be true, but may we not encourage mass paranoia?" Umeko leaned forwards and nodded, without a single strand of her mauve bangs falling out of place.

"Monokuma could've confiscated it?" Naoki suggested.

Etsuko pointed a finger at the discus thrower, gathering her thoughts. "Someone encouraging murder wouldn't confiscate a weapon, would he?"

"No siree," the shrill voice suddenly echoed from the speakers. "I can 100% confirm that I didn't touch Little Miss Anger Issues' beloved toy, and I'm a bear of my word!" The intercom crackled, signalling the end of Monokuma's announcement.

"That was helpful," said Naoki, unsure of whether to be sarcastic or not.

"We can't possibly believe him," replied Amaya, incredulous.

Keiji called over the brewing discussion. "Shitori-san, if it helps, we can just have everyone keep an eye out and be aware of these things." The white-haired yogi hadn't seemed to do much to calm the crowd, but Amaya seemingly conceded and sank into a chair, grumbling.

Seishiro couldn't ignore the fact that the atmosphere was steadily deteriorating- not that it was peaceful to begin with. Paranoia was setting in, despite the short time they had spent in their situation. And stressful as it was, it seemed to have reason.

Seishiro wasn't usually an early riser, but stress and fear had impacted his sleep schedule enough for him to be one of the first in the cafeteria each morning.

 _Yesterday, Shitori lost her sword_ , he thought. _She only lost it, so why am I so worried? I'm worried that something will happen._

He observed people as they entered, much more tardily than previous days. Amaya was still somewhat sullen, but Shigeko perked his interest when she entered, having donned the Monokuma patterned-bathrobe with her pink hair wrapped in a towel.

She caught him staring. "What're you doing, looking at me so weirdly?

"You...actually wore that? The weird bathrobe?" Seishiro's morning coffee hadn't kicked in yet, and he barely gave a passing thought to the fact that the food critic was somewhat easily offended.

"What about it? It's comfortable, never mind the design. A girl like me has to live in luxury, you know! In fact, it's best I dress like this! You don't know about my gruelling morning regime," Shigeko scoffed, seemingly going off on a tangent.

Ten minutes late, Yuji stumbled in with a towel around his neck which he proceeded to sling over a chair. "Jeez, you guys are all so early-" -he checked his watch- "-no, wait, I'm an idiot. Ignore me."

Seishiro rolled his eyes. Yuji was inconsistent - showing up early or 'fashionably late' on a whim.

As the group sat down and ate, he realised that something was off. He made eye contact with Komi from across the table, whose blue eyes flicked to an empty chair and back at him.

She was right. Somebody was missing.

"Where's Toshimi-san? He's usually earlier than this," said Seishiro, suddenly aware of the gardener's lack of presence.

"Something bad's happened, I knew it would, it's inevitable," gasped Katsumi desperately.

"Don't jump to conclusions," called Keiji. "It is troubling that he isn't here yet, especially if this doesn't usually happen."

Seishiro stood up, chair legs clattering against the cafeteria floor. "I'm going to look for him," he said, throat dry.

Umeko moved with intent to follow him. "I will come with you."

"Me too," said Etsuko, doing the same.

Hitomi rose from her seat, having wordlessly decided to join the search party.

Katsuo sipped at his tea held in a gloved hand. "My my, how charismatic of you. We shall await your return with bated breath," the playwright mused nonchalantly.

Seishiro marched out of the room, three girls in tow. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, half lost.

"Well?" prompted Etsuko.

"He's either in his room or the greenhouse," he replied.

"Let's...go to the greenhouse," said Hitomi suddenly, walking forwards without waiting for anyone else.

Etsuko nodded. "Well, glad we came along!" The comedian led Umeko by the wrist in the direction of the dorm rooms.

Seishiro jogged after the astrologer to compensate for her head start. Their footsteps echoed through the empty halls. Hitomi, still ahead of him, stopped the moment the greenhouse came into view, letting out a breathy gasp.

The glass door was ajar, the ground littered with smashed terracotta and fallen plants. Blood seeped from beneath the metal racks. And at the centre of it was **Toshimi Yoshikazu, the Super High School Level Gardener** , dark eyes open, glazed over, dark blood staining his chest and sides. Dead.

 _Dead._


	10. 1-4: Deadly Life (Investigation)

Seishiro went numb. It was like the energy had been drained out of him all at once. And he screamed with what breath he had left, in broken tones of failing lungs.

"I saw this...a bad omen in his future. But for it to be...so soon," whispered Hitomi. Despite usually being calm, her voice had a shaky undertone to it.

Two pairs of footsteps pounded down the hallway. "What, Nishimura-kun- what's going on- d-did you find- oh my god." Etsuko spoke in fragments, partially from shock and partially due to being out of breath.

Umeko paused at the doorway. She had opened her mouth to speak when a chime played from the speakers.

"Ding Dong! A body has been discovered! The investigation period shall now begin, and a Monokuma File has been added to your ElectroIDs. When the investigation period is over, the class trial will commence. Good luck, students!"

Etsuko looked confused and almost frantic. "What? Wh-what are we supposed to do here?! This isn't-"

"Go and alert the others," cut in Umeko.

With a groan, Etsuko ran towards the cafeteria, only to be greeted by the rest of the students coming to investigate the source of the announcement. Seishiro barely paid attention to the increasingly horrified reactions around him and instead watched the corpse, as if he could make it go away via sheer force of will.

Yoshikazu was dead. The same person who had, only a day ago, spoken of life and beauty. Now, to have that taken from him...

"It's about time someone got some murdering done!" The intercom crackled to life and the group of students snapped to attention. "Now, since you're all amateurs at this whole detective business, I'll give you a few pointers. Right now's the investigation period - you've got a set amount of time to find as much evidence as you can, to figure out which one of you is the culprit!"

Naoki cupped his hands and yelled, as if Monokuma couldn't hear him despite not being in the room. "Hey! How do we know it's not you that killed him?"

"Well, for starters, I'd make a much bigger deal of it. And all will be revealed in the Class Trial, 'cause this murderer did a pretty sloppy job of it!"

"We can't just believe him-"

"He could be right! Can we just go along with this for now?" Etsuko complained.

"Anyways!" Monokuma cut in again. "I've installed a handy dandy Monokuma File in your ElectroIDs to help you out. When the investigation is over, the Class Trial begins! But we'll burn that bridge when we get to it," he added.

Umeko raised an eyebrow. "Was that last part supposed to make sense?"

"Everyone, we should make a start," said Seishiro suddenly. "It's life or death for us right now."

He looked back upon the group. Misaki comforted Katsumi, who sat on the floor shaking. Shigeko covered her ears and faced the wall. Yuji looked pale, seemingly about to throw up. Katsuo seemed resigned, eyes closed. Takehiko wore an expression of grim determination.

"Are we splitting up?" Keiji asked. "If so, make sure that everybody is accounted for so that the culprit can't tamper with evidence."

Between jumbled words and students shoving past each other, they split to search the building. Seishiro stayed put, unable to look away from Yoshikazu's body, as if finding a strange fascination with the grotesque.

Umeko and Takehiko stood with him, seemingly waiting for something.

 _Right. Investigate._

He reached a hand towards the doorknob to pull the open door wider, but was stopped by Takehiko grabbing his forearm with a grip of iron.

"Don't," hissed the sniper. "Everything is evidence. Look at it, take note of it, remember it, preserve it if you can." With that, he slipped through the half-open door and into the greenhouse.

"There is reason behind that," said Umeko, following suit. Seishiro went after her.

He circled around the central shelves, taking the long way around. Yoshikazu's body lay on the right side of the room, to its left shattered pots dotted the ground. Seishiro carefully knelt down at the corpse's feet, opposite Umeko.

"Nishimura-san, have a look at what the Monokuma File is," the mortician commanded.

Turning on his ElectroID, he noticed that the screen's layout now resembled a smartphone, with different folders representing rules and the map, as well as one labelled 'Monokuma File 1'. He tapped on it.

 ** _The victim is Toshimi Yoshikazu, the Super High School Level Gardener._**

 ** _The body was discovered in the Greenhouse._**

 ** _The time of death falls between 6:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m.._**

 ** _External wounds are two stab wounds to the central chest cavity, a slash in the side of the lower abdomen and a shallow cut to the lower abdomen._**

Seishiro read it out loud. There was also a section at the bottom to write notes, and a diagram of the body and wounds.

"The only helpful part of that is the time of death," called Takehiko from the other side of the room.

Umeko nodded. "The wounds are obvious. There are four- no, something is off here." She had pulled up his shirt and was inspecting the clear cuts on his torso - exactly where the file indicated.

Seishiro examined the area nearby, as a gleam by his knees suddenly caught his attention. He fumbled underneath the central metal shelf, drawing out a chef's knife. The bottom of its blade was coated in congealed blood.

He held the knife up in full view.

"Where was that?" Umeko asked, staring at him.

"Under here," he replied, gesturing at the shelf.

"Yes, that is likely to be helpful," she replied, looking back down at her work. "Definitely...definitely hold on to that, please." Was she disinterested or focusing on her investigation?

Seishiro suddenly struck a realisation. "Wait, hold on. I...I read somewhere that the cutting force of a kitchen knife is focused at the bottom of the blade, and that's in line with where the blood is. But the fatal wound is a stab wound, right?"

"That is what the file says, and it does seem true from what I can see," the mortician agreed. "Ergo, there was more than one weapon used."

"Yeah, that's probably it. Hopefully the others have found something."

Without warning, Yuji swung the door open, much to Takehiko's exasperation. He was followed by Naoki, who seemed in much less of a hurry.

"Is something wrong?" called Seishiro.

The barista held out a handful of plastic resealable bags. "Nah, nothing's wrong. We found these in the kitchen, do you want them to hold evidence?"

"Yes," said Takehiko plainly, snatching the bags unceremoniously out of Yuji's hands.

"Oh, uh, thanks!" Seishiro took the largest and sealed the chef's knife in it. He dug around the area, cheek pressed against the floor in search of fallen evidence.

Takehiko caught his attention, calling his name. "Nishimura-san. Come here." He stood at the entryway, arms folded.

Seishiro complied, joining him.

"How do you think the murder occurred?" he pressed, like a teacher quizzing a student.

Seishiro was confused at the abrupt question. "Uh, I'd say...Toshimi was going by his normal routine, which would be checking on the greenhouse in the morning. Then, he was attacked by the culprit - over there, since the body wasn't moved." He didn't know if he was supposed to say more. "Oh, and they left the knife as a red herring."

Takehiko glanced at him. "That's the likely course of action. But there are still questions left unanswered. Did he know that the culprit was there? How did they overpower him? Maybe those are best left to the trial..."

Seishiro watched the scene in front of him, uncertain. It was clear that the body was exactly where Yoshikazu had fallen, based on the lack of bloodstains and the way that the flowerpots were knocked over.

It meant that there - the place that he had been investigating - was where the culprit had struck. He returned there, earning a nod from Umeko.

The bottom of his shoe caught on a sharp shard of terracotta, and he stumbled. He turned to look at the offending shard, and suddenly noticed a small, thin scrap of white fabric caught on one end. It was less of a scrap, and more of a few threads barely holding together, but it was still there.

Part of Seishiro's mind raced to find a mundane explanation - after all, it was likely that someone's clothing was caught on a thorn as they walked past, or that a sleeve was ripped by the rough edge of a shelf.

He felt the material: soft, fine and each thread weaved intricately despite most of it being frayed. "There's some cloth - uh, thread, really - I stepped on here?" Seishiro called, uncertain.

"Keep it in a bag," replied Umeko, not looking up. "Anything could be evidence."

Seishiro did just that, trying to formulate a scenario at the same time. Two pieces of evidence wasn't nearly enough, was it?

Umeko spoke again, cutting through his thoughts. "I believe that I have an idea as to how events transpired here - although we may need others to fill in pieces of the puzzle."

"Oh, that's...that's good. At least one of us knows what we're doing," he replied.

"Mm. Look, he is on his back, without much sign of a struggle in the likely places if he was killed after being knocked over. Therefore, death likely occurred quickly - and the culprit was in front of him, here."

Seishiro nodded. "So they wounded Toshimi first, which is these two gashes, and killed him instantaneously here and- that's gruesome- and he's- he's actually _dead_ -"

"Nishimura-san!" Umeko's gaze was steely when their eyes met. "Listen to me. For now, you have to think rationally - this is a life-or-death situation."

He held her gaze for a few moments - there was a certain hardened determination in her eyes which compelled him to listen.

Takehiko interrupted. "I understand your nice, dramatic moment here, but we have a goddamn murder to solve-"

"Ding Dong Bing Bong! The investigation period is now over, and the class trial will begin shortly. Please make your way to the trial room, pronto!"

"...and speak of the devil," spat the sniper.

The intercom turned on. "Since the whole lot of ya decided to pull off a Scooby-Doo and split up so effectively, I've shortened your investigation time. Isn't that a fun surprise?" Monokuma gave a dramatic sigh. "But you don't even know what a good, proper investigation is like, do you? I'd better get my hopes up that the murders keep coming, hey? Upupupu...anyways, for all you ignorant twerps, the Trial Room is the one marked with my glorious face on the map!"

"He's kidding," muttered Takehiko. "What was that? Half an hour? An hour? Did we even do anything?!"

"Did you 'even do anything', Mitsukuri-san?" Umeko retorted.

"I have a hypothetical scenario," he replied.

"As do I," said the mortician.

Seishiro sighed. "I have some evidence, but not nearly enough."

Umeko looked at him. "As long as you have something, anything will do."

"We'll do what we can," said Takehiko. "Let's go to the Trial Room. I'm eager to get it over and done with."

Fifteen students stared down the imposing, barred double doors at the north of the facility. With a shifting of machinery, the metal bars lowered into the ground and the doors slid open to reveal a large elevator furnished with the same heaters that adorned the corridors.

Too tense to say anything, the group stood in painful silence. Seishiro gripped the bottom of his jacket, scrunching the material.

No one made a move until Etsuko, confident, strode into the elevator. Her dress shoes clanked against the metal floor as she turned around to face them, arms outstretched. "Come on, what are we waiting for?"

 _She's confident because she's the culprit_ , came a nagging voice at the back of Seishiro's head. He ignored it.

Etsuko sparked a few others to action as they filed in silently after her, Seishiro included. He could feel the cold from the floor seeping through his sneakers. Everybody inside, the doors shut with a shuddering motion and the elevator began its descent.

Toshimi Yoshikazu, the one person that Seishiro had genuinely bonded with here, and someone so deserving of life. Someone out of these fifteen students had taken his life to prolong their own - or to save the people close to them.

 _They won't get away with this._


	11. 1-5: Deadly Life (Trial)

Without prompt, the students piled out of the elevator, spreading along the walls of an ornately decorated, circular room. In hues of faded gold and wine red, a carpet bordered a circle of bronze floor as glass light fixtures hung from the ceiling and walls.

Most apparent were sixteen mahogany stands in a wide circle at the centre of the room. The seventeenth, at the opposite side of the elevator, was larger and slightly detached from the circle. Monokuma perched on the large stand, red eye glinting wickedly.

"Upupupupu! Welcome, nouveau detectives, to the Class Trial!" Nobody responded. "Why so shy? Step right up, and take a stand at the spot with your name on it!"

Tentatively, fifteen pairs of feet shuffled to their places. Seishiro looked up and noticed that a stand, where he presumed Yoshikazu would've been, was occupied by a picture frame. It depicted a black and white photograph of the gardener, crossed out in bright pink paint. His heart sank.

"Now," announced Monokuma, "for an explanation of the class trial. This is where you lot debate it out on who the blackened is! At the end of the trial, a vote will be conducted to deduce the culprit. Remember, majority rules! If you vote correctly, the blackened gets an extra-special punishment courtesy of me! But if you vote wrong, it's bye-bye to the rest of you as the culprit gets off scot-free! Upupupu..."

Komi steeled herself. "Punishment...as in execution?"

"Thaaaat's right!" Monokuma replied.

She nodded gravely.

"That means that everything is on the line," said Seishiro. A few people agreed.

"I think we've already established that," muttered Takehiko, barely audible.

Monokuma clapped his hands once. "All righty! This time, you're on trial for the murder of Toshimi Yoshikazu, the Super High School Level Gardener. Let the Class Trial...begin!"

Everyone watched each other warily. "A-alright," began Seishiro.

"What're ya waiting for?! Hurry it up, you slowpokes!" Monokuma shouted.

"Fine," replied Misaki, seeming much more distraught than usual.

"Alright, before we start hurling accusations, let's work through this systematically," said Keiji.

"Okay, how 'bout everyone brings out all the tangible evidence they have?" Etsuko suggested.

Umeko gave Seishiro a pointed look.

"Oh, right." He held up the two plastic bags. "I have these. It's a knife, and-"

"What's that?" Amaya interrupted.

He raised the bag with the white threads in it. "This? It's fabric, or threads, I guess, that I found on one of the pieces of broken clay."

"You realise that someone probably had that stuck to their clothing when they were setting things up in here?" Komi deadpanned.

Seishiro doubted himself for a moment. "Uh, it was actually impaled on one of the shards. There's no way it was there before."

"Makes sense," agreed Yuji.

"Oh! And I have this," called Ryousei. The sailor held up a bloody, short and curved sword with an intricate golden sheath. Seishiro recognised it.

"That's...my sword," said Amaya sheepishly.

Komi raised an eyebrow. "Funny, you're a lot less angry about it than I expected you to be. Could it be that you're the culprit?"

"It's too early for accusations," replied Keiji.

Misaki nodded. "Trust me, she was angry before. Those two -" she gestured at Keiji and Ryousei "- found it and showed her."

Amaya groaned. "Y-yeah, I got pretty pissed. It was gonna make me a prime suspect - and I seriously did not do it."

"At least we have a lead now," spoke Umeko.

"Alright! Does anybody have any more evidence?" Etsuko yelled over the group.

Silence.

"Three pieces of evidence. Three pieces of evidence?!" Katsumi repeated, growing frantic. "How are we supposed to solve anything with that?!"

Takehiko cleared his throat, glaring at the blue-haired composer. "Physical evidence. There are a lot of things that we can't bring with us here."

"That's all the evidence?" Keiji asked. "Well, I suppose we have to make a start with this. How did the murder occur?"

"Let's start with the weapon," announced Shigeko.

"We have the knife and the sword," began Seishiro. "They're both bloody, so they had to have been used at some point in the murder."

Katsuo leaned on his stand, posing with his hand under his chin. "My, have any of you looked at the Monokuma file? Four wounds on the cadaver." The playwright held up four fingers. "Some with the knife, some with the sword."

"Hold up," said Yuji. "Seishiro-kun! Pass me the knife, wouldja?"

Seishiro leaned over the front of his stand and reached past Hitomi to hand Yuji the plastic bag.

The barista looked it over. "Yeah, on this kinda knife, the force is concentrated on the bottom of the blade, so this is effective." He made a chopping motion. "It's pretty hard to stab something with it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," added Seishiro. "But there are stab wounds and cuts, according to the Monokuma File."

Etsuko nodded, happy that they were getting somewhere. "Meaning that the chest wounds were made by the sword, and the one in the side and middle were made by the knife."

"No," said Takehiko abruptly. "Think about it. There's no feasible way that the culprit could've killed him with both weapons."

"Yes there is," replied Naoki. "One in each hand?"

"That would be clunky and uncoordinated - making it hard to kill someone like him without a huge struggle."

Misaki seethed. "Not for you, Mister Super High School Level Assassin-"

"-Sniper. You don't even care to get my talent right."

"Don't derail it," replied the makeup artist. "It'd be easy for you to kill someone-"

"No," said Hitomi suddenly. "You...wouldn't know...so don't make assumptions."

"Don't side with him-"

Komi raised an eyebrow. "Toru-san, what's up with you? You seem much more aggressive."

Misaki sighed, pulling her long ponytail over her shoulder. "One of us," she said accusingly, "is a filthy liar - a murderer - they betrayed us all to save themselves! Would you not be angry?"

Takehiko pounded his fist on his stand. "We're getting sidetracked. Nishimura-san, testify."

"Wait, what-"

"Toshimi was strong. On the first night, I tried to break out from the greenhouse. To stop me, he essentially grabbed me - and everything that I was holding - off the ground, without much visible effort. If he had the malicious intent, he would have been a dangerous adversary."

Seishiro mulled over the thought that Yoshikazu was now being referred to in past tense. "I...I saw that, yeah. Which means..."

"...that the culprit struck quickly, and likely caught him off guard," finished Etsuko.

Takehiko nodded, signalling that they had reached the same conclusion.

Seishiro spoke up again, more confident. "So the killer used the sword as the murder weapon, since it can inflict both kinds of wounds."

"Because it'd be hard to strike with one weapon, then drop it and pick up another, without the victim fighting back, right?" Ryousei affirmed.

Keiji nodded solemnly, but looked a little conflicted. "That may be true. However, there are a good number of us with athletic talents that could possibly pull it off. We have a martial artist, a professional athlete, someone we can only assume is an assassin, and myself, a yogi."

"That is a good point, but I can ascertain what happened. Allow me to explain," mentioned Umeko, who had been oddly quiet for the trial. "The shallow cut in the abdomen is more recent than the other three wounds, but not by a large margin. It also seems to match up with the shape and size of the knife blade."

"Hold on, how can we believe you? How can we believe any of you? Anyone could be the culprit," interrupted Katsumi.

"You will have to believe me for now. My apologies - I have a way of keeping observations to myself."

Naoki raised his hand. "So why are you questioning Aihara-san and not him?" He jerked a thumb at Takehiko.

"Because you're _all_ questioning him. I-I'm just saying that we need to be cautious of everyone!"

"Listen," sighed Umeko. "I do have concrete evidence, but it was impossible to bring with me. My observation was that, despite there being four wounds on the corpse, there were only three holes in Toshimi's shirt. The recent, shallow cut was the one that did not match up. I have sufficient reason to believe that the wound was inflicted post-mortem."

"My how knowledgable," proclaimed Katsuo. "Makes me wonder why, exactly, you weren't the one targeted. After all, a mortician would be the most potent force in a trial, no?"

"Quiet," the mortician replied sharply.

Keiji brought his hands together. "Back on topic, we now know what happened during the murder. Now, we should piece together how the culprit could have done this."

Seishiro lead on from him. "So, the murder itself was committed when the culprit ambushed the victim in the greenhouse. They first inflicted the wound to his side, then...then killed him by stabbing him in the chest twice. They then used the knife as a red herring, cutting into the body after death and lifting up the clothes to do so."

"Broken pots," prompted Takehiko.

"Oh, uh, either the culprit smashed some pots with the weapon during a struggle, or one of them crashed into the shelf with the flowerpots on it." This was the part that Seishiro wasn't too sure of.

"But either way," mentioned Yuji, adjusting his glasses, "the pot broke close to the culprit, catching a bit of their clothing and ripping it. That's where your fabric scrap comes in."

Katsumi looked around warily. "So, w-what do we have now?"

"We gotta figure out how the culprit got the weapons, what they did with their torn clothing, how they ambushed Toshimi-san, and how they managed to do it all before breakfast." Yuji listed. "Oh, jeez, that's actually a lot. And I thought we were getting somewhere..."

Etsuko smiled. "Oh, come on. We can make this work!"

"Sure, why the hell not," grumbled Naoki. "Let's start with weapons - the sword is kinda confusing, but the knife is from the kitchen, right?"

Yuji spent the most time in the kitchen - a few heads turned to look at him, assuming the barista had taken inventory. "Huh? One of the knives was missing from the kitchen this morning, but I swear it was there last night at dinner."

"Hideaki-san made dinner last night," pressed Komi.

"It'd be easy for him to take it," said Shigeko. "Unless somebody else got in after dinner and before nighttime."

"W-what? It was there, I didn't do anything," the sailor in question replied. "I...I think..."

"I checked after dinner," testified Yuji.

Katsuo tapped a finger to his chin. "Well then. Since it's impossible for anyone to have an alibi during the time of the murder, we can still find people's alibis at the times during which the culprit might have acquired their materials. Ingenious, if I do say so myself. Now, who was last in the kitchen?"

"Me, Amaya-chan and Shigeko-chan," replied Yuji uncertainly.

The food critic cocked her head. "Of course, I was trying to make a dish worthy of my great palate."

Amaya snorted. "Key word there is 'trying'."

"Well, what did you expect? I critique food, I don't make it!" She stomped her foot.

Umeko raised an eyebrow. "That makes you three suspects for now...unless someone came in after you left."

Yuji shook his head. "Nah, we closed up about half an hour before the nighttime announcement."

"Or someone got in there before," added Shigeko.

"I didn't look, but were there knives missing then?" Amaya said.

She sighed. "I didn't see. It wasn't a matter to concern myself with."

"Man, that's not helping your case."

"Let's leave it for now," said Umeko. "What about the sword?"

Ryousei stuck his hand up and bounced on the balls of his feet. "Oh! Right before Shitori-san realised that her sword was gone, someone pranked me with a bucket of water on a door - she ran out of her room to see what happened, so the thief might've caught her door before it closed and taken the sword from there."

Komi slowly nodded in understanding. "Because they knew that you would go running if you thought someone was in danger. It was a flawed plan that relied on chance, but it actually worked."

"Right, where was everyone during that?" Naoki inquired. "Yesterday, just before lunch, I think.."

Naoki, Amaya, Takehiko and Shigeko were alone at that point, the latter two claiming that they were asleep and didn't hear the commotion. Takehiko had apparently been in the infirmary looking for cold medicine.

"So no one can back up Kusuhara-kun and Yamamoto-chan?" Etsuko concluded.

"Nope, you got me," replied the discus thrower.

Misaki leant over her stand. "Firstly, Shitori-san could be lying to take suspicion off her - maybe she never lost the sword. And secondly, who backed up Mitsukuri-san?"

"I...I did," replied Hitomi. "I caught a cold...from often being in the greenhouse at night...to look at stars."

Takehiko opened his mouth to say something, but instead opted to give the astrologer a sharp look.

"I...think I infected him," she added.

The makeup artist looked between the two skeptically. "Okay, but I don't trust this. I think they're in cahoots," she addressed the rest of the group.

"Still," began Seishiro, "it doesn't mean much now, since the only two missing both alibis are Shitori-san and Yamamoto-san."

"I swear it wasn't me," blurted out Amaya defensively. "I mean, I do not have the foresight to plan something like this."

"And killing someone - even if it's to get out of this hellhole - is way below me," added Shigeko.

Komi shook her head. "We can't believe them. Everything could've been a lie."

"Seriously?" Yuji groaned. "Can't we just trust people? Aren't we friends?"

"Not in this environment. Not in a trial room," replied the cheerleader bluntly.

"Well, we've narrowed it down to two suspects," interjected Ryousei. "Isn't that enough?"

Seishiro suddenly came to a gut-sinking realisation. "Guys, Yuji-kun and the others left the cafeteria half an hour before it closed up. That left the culprit half an hour to get in and steal the knife, meaning that it could be any of the four without alibis for the theft of the sword."

The sailor nodded. "But it still means that we have four suspects, unless two people were working together."

"One step forwards, two steps back," remarked Katsumi in dismay. "We have other things to go through, right? Maybe that'll help?"

"Such as how the culprit ambushed Toshimi," suggested Etsuko.

Seishiro agreed. "Right. So far I can only think of two possibilities. Either they entered the greenhouse after him and snuck up to him, or they were hiding in the greenhouse beforehand."

"Yes, yes," agreed Katsuo, "but what if he was killed somewhere else and moved?"

Umeko immediately shot down his claim. "There were no signs of the body being moved, not to mention the fact that the killer did not have nearly enough time to clean up any signs of that."

"Wait," called Seishiro. "Back to my other point, the greenhouse door is locked. Only Toshimi, had the key, meaning that the killer had to have come in after him!"

"There are flaws...in that," began Hitomi. "Have you heard...the greenhouse door?"

He nodded slowly. "Wait, so you mean...it creaks loudly when you open it, right?"

"Correct," replied the blonde astrologer.

"So what you're saying is that, since the door creaks so loudly, it'd be impossible for the culprit to come in without nearby noticing." Naoki deduced.

"And what if Toshimi knew they were there, but they hid the weapons from him and struck when his back was turned?" Komi countered.

At some point, Ryousei had passed Keiji the sword, which he now held out. "How would you hide this on your person inconspicuously?" the yogi questioned.

"Vertically behind your back," suggested Yuji.

"Inconspicuously," repeated Keiji with emphasis. "It's heavy - one would likely have to hold it there with one or both hands, looking very strange."

"And to hide it, you couldn't be seen from the back. But your reflection in the glass of the greenhouse would give that away." Seishiro finished.

Yuji scratched the back of his head. "But that makes both explanations a moot point."

"There were no apparent signs of anyone breaking down the door," said Takehiko flatly.

"No," began Misaki, "no, I have a way. Did anyone else check the top drawer in their desk in their room?"

"Nope," said Amaya.

"I did," replied Seishiro. "There was this toolkit thing that had instructions on how to kill someone."

"And how to disassemble some things," added Yuji.

Misaki gave them a confused look.

"I had a sewing kit," said Etsuko.

"Yes, okay," replied Misaki abruptly. "I think the girls have a sewing kit that comes with instructions as to how to pick a lock with the needle."

Realisation dawned on a good number of the students.

"Every guy who checked his drawer had a toolkit, and every girl has a sewing kit, right?" Naoki surveyed. The answers were affirmative.

Seishiro nodded. "That means we can take Mitsukuri-san and Kusuhara-san off the list of four suspects."

"Leaving these two lovely ladies here -" proclaimed Katsuo dramatically "- Shitori Amaya and Yamamoto Shigeko!"

"May we not derive humour of this?" Umeko asked, steely.

Shigeko looked around nervously, Amaya bit her lip.

"Hold on," said Etsuko. "What if one of the girls lent her sewing kit to a guy? Did anyone do that?"

Nobody made a sound.

"I assume not?"

"No, nobody did," said Komi.

"Nope, not me," added Etsuko.

Umeko nodded. "Clearly. Neither have I. If anyone is withholding information from personal embarrassment, please take into account the fact that we will all die if you don't speak up."

Another bout of silence passed.

"Well, that was a nice but pointless speech," muttered Naoki.

Out of the blue, Misaki yelled: "I know who the culprit is!"

"What?" Seishiro gasped.

"Listen. After they found Shitori-chan's sword, we both figured she was pretty suspicious, so she let me search her room." Amaya nodded.

"I didn't realise it was important at the time, but when I went through her drawers, her sewing kit still had the plastic packaging over it. It had never been opened. Therefore, I have reason to believe that you, Yamamoto-san, are the culprit!" Misaki pointed a finger at the food critic.

A panicked look grew on Shigeko's face. "Wh-what? Do you really think that I, of such a high class, would really stoop to violence like a common street thug?!"

"This situation is enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity, so yes, I believe so," replied Umeko calmly.

"Yeah? Well the evidence points to Shitori-san as much as it points to me! What's wrong with me j-just being in the wrong place at the wrong time? I'm telling you it was her!"

Keiji brought his fist to his palm. "Yamamoto-san, please calm down."

"We already established that she's innocent," called Seishiro.

"It wasn't me!" Shigeko's long pink pigtails whipped about her as she turned to glare at him. "How could a weak and delicate damsel like myself kill Toshimi, of all people?!"

"That's why you had to rely on ambushing him," Seishiro rebutted. "Something that Shitori-san didn't need to do, because of her talent."

Komi nodded. "Now it's obvious, don't you think? All we need is a little pressure, and this 'delicate damsel' will break."

"How dare you!" Shigeko screeched. "It was definitely her! No one would bat an eyelid at Shitori-san carrying her own sword!"

Amaya gripped the edge of her stand. "But I wouldn't have a reason to wake up early and come into the greenhouse, holding the sword that I just 'lost'!"

Shigeko gave an indignant cry. "Listen-"

"Well well, it's all very amusing, watching you lead each other in circles," began Katsuo. "But I have a contradiction for you all. Every piece of evidence condemning Yamamoto-san could easily be bypassed by Shitori-san's talent."

"What are you talking about?" Etsuko whispered.

The playwright spread his hands with a smile, as if happy to be contradicting someone. "Firstly, the sword. Shitori started the drama queen act yesterday in a futile attempt to take suspicion off her. This morning, she entered the greenhouse holding her sword, which had still been in her room the whole time."

Amaya shook her head. "That's...that's wrong, how could I do that, why would I do that?"

Katsuo smirked. "Only the culprit would say that. After all, if anyone questioned why Shitori had the sword, she'd just say that she found it on the way to breakfast. She would have a reason to carry it, after all. While Yamamoto would need to rely on picking the lock beforehand and ambushing the victim, Shitori would not. Being the Super High School Level Capoeirista, she has the skill to overpower him."

"And with the ability to have held the sword without drawing suspicion...it would have made a potential attack a surprise nevertheless," commented Umeko.

"That means that both of them have an equal chance of being the culprit," Ryousei concluded fearfully.

Seishiro sighed, realising that they had been pushed back again. "I wouldn't put it in terms of chance. But there has to be some way to prove one guilty or the other innocent. There has to."

Naoki snorted. "Well, I don't know about you, but Yamamoto-san sounds pretty guilty at the moment," he said, jerking a thumb at the food critic.

"That could be true, but mannerisms alone aren't incriminating enough at this point in time," Komi pointed out. "No one knows each other through and through - this might be just how somebody reacts under pressure."

"We're stuck," gasped Katsumi, the weight of the trial dawning on her.

"Think...about it," prompted Hitomi. "...the evidence."

 _The evidence. What couldn't be bypassed by someone's talent or circumstance? What didn't he mention?_

"The fabric," Seishiro realised. "Oshima-san, you didn't mention the fabric."

Katsuo raised an eyebrow. "And?" he questioned.

Umeko nodded, agreeing with Seishiro. "As far as my observations show, all of us have clothing of a similar appearance provided in our rooms. I have long black dresses. Watanabe-san and Oshima-san have suits. And Yamamoto-san, you tend to wear white and pale pink dresses. Nishimura-san, pass me the fabric you found."

"S-so what? Monokuma probably makes all of these clothes out of the same crap! And don't Hideaki-san, Kusuhara-san, and Toru-chan all wear white? You can't prove that Shitori-san doesn't have something white in her closet!" Shigeko yelled preemptively.

"We happen to wear white of a different material," said Misaki icily, pulling at the sleeves of her fluffy cardigan.

Umeko pressed the piece of fabric between her fingers. "It does have the appearance and texture of silk, although I could be mistaken."

"And how can you prove that it came off the culprit anyway?!" Shigeko attacked. "For all we know, it might've just fallen off whoever set up this whole murder school crap!"

Seishiro shook his head. "That's impossible. I mentioned that when I found it, it was impaled on a piece of clay. There's no way it could've been there before."

"But just because Shigeko-chan has white silk clothing, it doesn't condemn her," muttered Yuji. "Again, we can't prove that Amaya-chan doesn't have something that the scrap could've ripped off from."

"Oh, so we're on first-name basis now?" Shigeko muttered.

"Hey, I do that with everyone!"

"Let's not get distracted," called Amaya.

Shigeko groaned. "Says you-"

"It is worrying," began Keiji, "that we can't pinpoint or prove anything."

Misaki sucked in a breath. "Yes, yes we can. I can."

"S-seriously?" Ryousei gasped. "Wait, because you were the one investigating Shitori-san's room!"

The makeup artist nodded. "I looked through every bit of her room, since she was a suspect at that time. I can confirm that the only white article of clothing in her closet was made of denim or something similar."

"This most certainly is not denim," asserted Umeko, still holding the fabric.

"And there was nowhere else she could have hidden something?" Komi questioned. "Not even somewhere else in the school?"

Misaki shook her head. "I searched through and through. Even had to dig through her trash."

"Speaking of that," mentioned Naoki, "I'm pretty sure Yuji-kun went through every bin he saw," he chuckled.

The blue-haired barista flushed. "Hey!"

"But you didn't find anything?" Ryousei asked.

"No," he replied. "And we split up and searched pretty effectively, so I don't think we missed much."

"Wait wait wait, hold up!" Katsumi exclaimed. "What if those two-" she pointed at Misaki and Amaya "-were working together as each other's alibis?"

"Oh, I can prove that wrong," affirmed Etsuko. "Me and Ichisada-chan. I mean, we were walking past and saw Toru-chan pretty much tearing up the floorboards in there."

Hitomi nodded. "It was...honest. I watched."

Seishiro looked over the scene, tense. "So that means that we've proved one of our two suspects innocent. Or at least, we have enough to make an educated guess."

Etsuko banged her fist on her stand. "He's right. I hate to be the one to say this, but all the evidence points to you, Yamamoto-chan." She counted off a list on her fingers. "You wear white clothing. You were in the kitchen late last night. You were alone when Shitori-san's sword was stolen. You have a sewing kit to pick the lock with. And you showed up to breakfast having taken a shower - something that hasn't happened before!"

Seishiro nodded, throat dry. "Alright. I'm going to go through what we figured out about the murder. And...speak up if you think I'm wrong, okay?"

"You are wrong!" Shigeko shrieked frantically. "I didn't do it! I didn't!"

"Ignore her, stated Umeko.

Seishiro nodded. "So yesterday, the culprit set up a distraction to get Shitori out of her room. They then entered her room and took her sword, presumably hiding it in their own room. Last night, the culprit, being the last person in the kitchen, also took a kitchen knife and stored that as well, in preparation."

Shigeko covered the bottom half of her face with her hand, taking sharp and anxious breaths.

"They were aware of Toshimi's routine of being alone, so they decided to target him," continued Seishiro. "This morning, they woke up earlier than the morning announcement, and used the needle from their sewing kit to pick the greenhouse lock, since Toshimi had the key on his person at that time. The culprit had the two weapons on them as they lay in waiting. They then ambushed him by, uh..."

He faltered a little, and Umeko took over his sentence. "The culprit likely approached from behind and made the first strike from there. At that point, they may have continued from their original swing or made another strike that missed - shattering nearby flowerpots and catching some of their clothing on a broken shard. That gave the victim enough time to turn around, but not enough to fight back. That was when the culprit stabbed him twice in the chest, either of which could've been the killing blow. They then used the chef's knife to cut into the corpse underneath the clothing, leaving it there as a red herring." The mauve-haired mortician nodded, as if satisfied with her part.

"Oh! Okay!" Ryousei spoke up earnestly despite the somber mood setting in. "Then the culprit ran out of the room and hid the real murder weapon in a storage room! They were in a hurry, so it was kind of just thrown in there..."

Etsuko joined in, seemingly eager to be part of it. "After that, they went back to their room to clean themselves off, and then showed up to breakfast to join the rest of us. And...that's what led us here," she finished.

 _We're like pieces of a puzzle, all working to piece together the full picture. Like clockwork. Morbid clockwork._

"All this evidence points to one person. Yamamoto Shigeko...are we correct?" Seishiro pointed at the pink-haired girl.

There were tears welling up in her eyes. "No! You're wrong! You're wrong!"

"Oh?" Takehiko cocked his head. "If you have something to prove it, then by all means, speak up."

Shigeko looked dumbfounded. "No...I...I don't have anything. B-but you're wrong! You're all wrong! You are!" She pointed frantically at various people in the room, as if trying to take attention away from her.

"Upupupupu!" Monokuma, having been silently observing since the start of the trial, got up from his perch on the stand. "Come on! I'm sick of watching the blind lead the blind, but at least you've gotten somewhere. Unfortunately, this trial's gonna have to come to a close. Are you ready, kiddos?" The bear struck a pose, and a drumroll began in the background. "It's...Voting Time!"

At once, everyone's stands opened up to reveal a screen embedded in the front. On the screen sat the same pixelated figures that adorned the dorm room doors.

"All ya gotta do is select the one who ya think is the culprit and lock it in! So simple, even you dimwits could do it! Remember, majority rules." Monokuma cackled from his stand.

Seishiro's hand hovered over the panel, having selected Shigeko to vote for.

 _Here...somebody will always die. And it's us or her_.

He hit the 'Confirm' button, looking up to see the others doing the same. When it seemed that the last vote had been cast, the lights suddenly dimmed.

In silence, three spotlights turned on in the centre of the circle of stands. They circled randomly across the group of students - Seishiro found himself flinching whenever the harsh light passed over him.

One by one, they came to a stop at a single stand. Shigeko looked up, the lights accentuating the glistening tears rolling down her face.

Another spotlight suddenly illuminated over Monokuma. "Correctamundo! Dear little Shigeko-chan is the blackened! Guilty! Guilty!" He crowed. "Now, got any last words? I can assure you they won't be famous, upupupu!"

"Please," she whispered. "Just stop it. Stop it! _Stop it!_ " Each word increased in volume until she was shouting and crying, voice cracking.

"It...it was you," gasped Katsumi in the darkness.

"It was you!" Misaki shouted angrily. "Why would you- you traitor- why would you betray us?!"

Seishiro fixed her with a stare. "Why?"

Shigeko brought her cupped hands to cover her nose and mouth, as if trying to suppress her inelegant whimpers. "It...the video..."

"The motive video?" Seishiro pressed.

"Yes," she replied, an audible tremble in her voice. "It was...it was Mommy and Daddy. They were being stabbed, and- and there was so much blood, and...I- I don't know what I can do without them! They can't be dead. They can't!"

Seishiro made eye contact with Etsuko from across the circle of stands. A horrified look was growing on her face, the aftermath of the trial setting in.

"That's why I killed, I chose the one person who would be alone...b-because I have to get out! I don't have any more reason to live without them. A-at that point in time, their lives were more important than any of yours! They still are!" She was breaking down, crying and yelling like a madwoman.

"How impeccably selfish," muttered Katsuo. "Selfish and immature."

"S-shut up!" Shigeko shrieked in reply.

"Don't add insult to injury," said Keiji firmly.

Seishiro read the expressions of the people around him. Katsumi sniffled a little, while Naoki watched tensely with eyes wide.

"You would do that," said Amaya, dismayed. "I...I don't believe this."

Umeko watched Shigeko emotionlessly. "Yamamoto-san...I apologise, but this is all over now."

"No! Please, it isn't!" She gripped the front of her stand, trembling. "Please...just let me live. I need to get out- just, please! Anyone! This...this isn't happening..." Shigeko hung her head, fringe and pigtails dangling loosely. She hiccuped lightly, tears dripping onto the polished mahogany.

"Oh, boo hoo," mocked Monokuma. "I'm tired of this whole drama queen act! But to feel that despair sinking in...how does it feel, knowing that you'll die without ever knowing any answers?"

Shigeko let her tears flow freely now, wailing and screaming with every last bit of essence she had. It was pitiful.

But no one could save her now.

"Upupupu! Welcome to my favourite part!" Out of Monokuma's stand popped a large red button, almost cartoony in its shape. He pulled out a wooden mallet and smashed it down on the button, smiling gleefully. "It's Execution Time, kiddies!"

 **Yamamoto Shigeko, the Super High School Level Food Critic, has been found guilty of murder.**

 **Commence execution.**

 _Shigeko shrieks as a chain wraps around her neck and drags her backwards through a set of fancy double doors. She is strapped to a large velvet chair at the end of a long, golden table._

 ** _Execution: Feeding Time!_**

 _Silhouettes of Shigeko's parents appear in the distance, cooking. She brightens, hopeful. They hand a plate of steaming hot food to Monokuma, who runs down the length of the table and comes to a stop in front of her. The steam rising from the plate forms a skull and crossbones. She looks around fearfully, biting her lip and sweating. She screams as more silhouettes appear beside her and force her mouth open as Monokuma shovels the boiling, poisoned food down her throat._

 _Shigeko convulses violently, tears and sweat streaming down her reddening face as the heat and poison burns her throat. Muffled, desperate screams echo through the room, her voice cracking and gurgling. She finally slumps forward, eyes rolled back, even her sclera red, the last thing she sees being her parents' figures watching emotionlessly._


	12. 2-1: Daily Life

Seishiro barely slept for a week. It was like the events of the trial had been imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. He didn't know what he had expected at the end. Justice, sure. An eye for an eye. But something humane, not this...torture.

Shigeko had murdered the one person that Seishiro could have genuinely called a friend here - all for her own reasons. But even she didn't deserve such a fate.

And yet he still couldn't shake the nagging thought at the back of his head that went:

 _Better you than me._

He wondered if he was being as selfish as her.

Everyone else mulled around in a similar state of lethargy. Etsuko flitted around, trying to keep spirits up. She was just about ready to launch into a stand-up comedy routine the moment somebody asked.

"Come on," she had told Seishiro and Misaki at one point. "We all

worked great with each other, and we all made it! Look at it that way!"

Misaki, on the other hand, was still embittered from Shigeko's 'betrayal' and took out that bitterness on everyone that spoke to her, having all but lost her bubbly attitude from before.

"Yes, our teamwork worked so well that we even managed to send someone to their horrible death," she retorted.

"Well, if we didn't, then everyone would've died a horrible death," Etsuko snapped back. "Do you want to live or not?!"

That was when Seishiro left. He hadn't seen Etsuko snap at someone like that, not even during the trial.

Keiji put every ounce of effort into keeping everyone together, and presumably in a sane state of mind. Yoga classes began taking place every morning and evening, but the stress was eating at even him.

And Katsuo, who had been so smugly superior during the trial, had quietened down considerably. Seishiro never saw the playwright without a pile of manuscripts nearby, engrossing himself deeper into his work with every passing day.

Worst was Katsumi, who had been traumatised enough that she barely left her room, not even for meals. Misaki had resorted to leaving a few sandwiches outside her door and hoping for the best.

And it was on one of those tired, silent mornings that Monokuma showed up at breakfast. Or rather, he made quite a grand entrance. Halfway through breakfast. Riding on the back of a penguin.

Komi's jaw dropped.

"Is that why the corridors had a layer of ice on the floor?" Yuji questioned flatly.

"Yes," yelled Monokuma in reply, striking a pose. The penguin gave a slightly defeated squawk. "Do you know how long it took me to kidnap this thing and figure out how to surf on it?"

Ryousei's eyes widened. "T-that's animal abuse, isn't it?!"

"Abuse schmuse," the bear dismissed. He hopped up onto the table, commanding the attention of all fourteen students. "Now isn't the mood all dreary and dull in here? Well, I've got a pleasant surprise for you all!"

"No!" Amaya shouted suddenly, slamming a fist down on the table. "No way in hell am I listening to another one of your motives!"

"Upupupupu! Who said it would be a bad thing? Or even a motive to begin with?" Monokuma taunted. "What I was about to explain before you so rudely interrupted me was...oh, wait, maybe I won't tell you after all!"

"Quit taunting us," Amaya growled.

"Upupupu! Fine, I'll tell you out of the goodness of my heart! The second floor is now open for exploration! How's that, huh?"

Komi raised an eyebrow. "There has to be some drawback to this."

Monokuma grinned wide. "Nope, nada, no way! But...I'll have you know that every time a Class Trial is successfully completed, the next floor will open up."

"So it is a motive, just in a roundabout way," muttered Amaya.

"It's not," said Takehiko. "The culprit wouldn't be alive to see the next floor."

"See, all good things!" Monokuma cheered. With that, he vaulted off the table and onto the back of the penguin, which waved its flippers indignantly. "Onwards, my trusty steed!" He pushed off from the table legs and slid at a rapid pace down the icy hall, waving madly at the students until he turned a corner and went out of sight.

"All right!" Etsuko cheered suddenly, much to the alarm of the students around her. "Exploration time! Who's with me?"

Ryousei raised his hand. "Oh! I will!"

"Oh, why the hell not," shrugged Amaya, joining them.

Somehow, Etsuko had spurred others to action. After all, this entire time she had just been waiting for an opening to cheer someone, anyone up.

"Jeez, everyone's going," said Yuji. "I'm not missing out on that!"

Hitomi stood up silently, showing her assent in body language.

"Hmm, why not," agreed Keiji. "Some exploration won't do us any harm."

And then, the last person that anyone expected to speak up did.

"I'll go," said Komi, smiling for once. Genuinely.

Etsuko grinned at the group. "Right!"

Seishiro would have gone with them, but somebody had to clean up the cafeteria, he had justified to himself. After all, he knew that there was merit in staying behind and avoiding the majority.

Warm water vapour blasted at his face when he opened the dishwasher, the scent of mixed remnants of food from last night only mildly unpleasant in comparison to the events of the trial.

"Hey," said Naoki, unceremoniously dumping the dregs of his coffee into the sink next to Seishiro and breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Wha-? Oh, hey," he replied, a little startled.

"You got a minute?" Naoki began. "I mean, you're like the most approachable person left down here."

Seishiro sputtered, amused. "I sincerely hope that was meant as a compliment."

"Wait- oh, that came out wrong," he winced. "Tried to mean that as a compliment."

Seishiro nodded. "Sure, sure."

Naoki awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, here's the thing. I don't get how everyone's all 'oh, lets go exploring!' when...you know, two of us are kind of dead. Are they over it just like that?"

"I don't think they're over it per se," he replied, "but, at least in my opinion, taking your mind off all the doom and gloom is a pretty good way to go."

"Feels inconsiderate."

"It might," Seishiro sighed, "but you don't want to be dwelling on this one thing - even if it's something as huge as this - forever. Look, I have this thing where...when something big happens, I don't really feel anything. But then I end up dwelling on it and thinking about it for ages. Getting my mind off it just helps."

Naoki nodded. "I...I think I know what you mean."

"Heh, that's..." he trailed off, somewhat amused.

"What?"

Seishiro shrugged. "I mean, I never thought I'd be talking coping methods with like, one of Japan's most famous athletes. Then again, never thought a talking robot bear would come along and make me kill my classmates."

Naoki chose to ignore the last statement. "Don't," he said simply.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No, I mean...look, you've got a talent too. Super High School Level Pyrotechnician, right? Don't you feel that people only know you as your talent?"

Seishiro paused, thinking. "No, I don't, actually. It's probably because the way we got our talents, how we got scouted, the talents themselves - are so different."

Naoki ran a hand through his light brown hair. "Yeah, that makes sense," he said, slightly more dejected than before.

Seishiro laughed. "Trust me, I'm pretty boring. I was just some guy with passion, in a town that nobody's heard of. You, on the other hand..."

"At least you earned something for yourself, through the work you did. I mean, I'm not saying that I was forced into being an athlete. It's more like I was born into it."

"Let me guess, you've got a family of athletes?" Seishiro mused, almost sarcastically.

Naoki nodded. "Pretty much. My mum was an Olympic level discus thrower too. Dad was a runner, he was more small-time. As to why I got here...I feel like it was some mix of obligation, wanting to impress people and wanting to be like my parents. Or maybe it was because I was good at it, and just wanted the success."

Seishiro raised an eyebrow. "Sounds to me like you don't like being the Super High School Level Discus Thrower at all."

"It's not like I hate it," he replied, cracking his neck tiredly. "It's the thing that got me breaking world records and making headlines. But I think I've changed from when I was younger and in awe of everything around me. I want to do something different, but I don't know what. I'm kind of directionless right now."

Seishiro cracked a smile. "You sound like an old man, almost. But I feel like I know that feeling of not knowing what to do with yourself. For me, I think I found my path when I got my talent...and you're the opposite."

"Yeah, I guess. It used to be about success and accomplishment. I suppose my dream now...I still want success, but I want to put more importance on doing something that makes me personally satisfied." Naoki sighed, looking upwards at nothing in particular. "Even if that had nothing to do with the trial...I'm still glad I got something off my chest."

"Don't go back to the trial," replied Seishiro. "Look, I definitely sound like Watanabe here, but preventing another murder from happening is the best we can do right now."

He gave an amused snort. "True. Staying here forever, with just us...that's probably the most feasible option we have."

"All we have to do is pray that everyone else shares that sentiment, hey?

"That's a little grim, coming from the person who just tried so hard to cheer me up," commented Naoki with laughter behind his voice. "Speaking of everyone else, do you actually wanna go up and explore? I mean, no one's come down yet."

"Hey, we gotta go up there at some point," grinned Seishiro in reply. "And hey, there's gotta be something better to do than wallow in misery."

Naoki shook his head, amused. "Man, you're really optimistic right now. I think Watanabe's getting to you."

"Is she?" Seishiro paused for a moment. "I don't really understand her, but I think we definitely need some kind of positive influence here."

"Right. Should we go?"

"Let's go!"

At first glance, the second floor wasn't much to look at. The layout was much simpler, consisting of one corridor perpendicular to the stairs and another that ran straight ahead, forming a 'T' shape. Directly to the right of the stairs were two identical classrooms to that of the first floor, and it seemed that those classrooms had been mirrored on the left side. The corridor that led straight ahead was short and wide, adorned with heaters and one door on each side of the corridor. There were another two doors side by side at the end of the hall.

It was surprisingly deserted.

"Don't suppose everyone's been sucked into a black hole or something," muttered Naoki.

"Yes, that's clearly the logical conclusion," replied Seishiro flatly, having finished poking around in a classroom.

The room behind the right door in the hallway opposite the stairs was innocuous, yet somehow instilled a sneaking sense of paranoia in him.

A trash incinerator.

Yuji's theory from much earlier was that Monokuma emptied the trash cans every night. He was quickly proven right - the bear later admitted that small amenities like rubbish and food supplies would be taken care of. It was surprisingly luxurious living for what was essentially a death trap.

Of course, without the need to actually incinerate trash, the only thing left to burn would be potential evidence. Or entire dead bodies, depending on how grim one's outlook was.

And the prerequisite for that would be a murder in preparation. Which suddenly didn't seem so unlikely, based on what had already occurred. And that meant that-

"Hey, earth to Nishimura!" Naoki snapped his fingers in front of Seishiro's face. "You got a deep-rooted phobia of incinerators or something?"

Seishiro flinched. "Huh? I was just...lost in thoughts. And paranoia," he added.

"Please don't pull a Kawaguchi on us," he said, half serious.

"At least I haven't gone to the extreme of not talking to anyone in case they kill me," he replied flatly.

The room across from the incinerator turned out to have plain double doors, the same beige as the walls. Seishiro peered through the small square windows at the top.

"Whoa, it's an arcade," he whispered back to Naoki.

"Seriously? That's so cool, but what kinda school has an arcade?"

"This is barely a school anyway," replied Seishiro, swinging open the doors.

The arcade was dimly lit, dozens of flashing screens the primary light source. The walls were a dark blue, almost black, adding to the atmosphere. Muted but bright jingles played by the different machines melded together in the air, punctuated by a soft buzzing from the vibrations.

"Okay," hissed Naoki, "this is way cool, but I'm getting freaked out by the fact that no one else is actually here."

"It's an arcade," replied Seishiro. "Can we at least stay here a bit? There was literally nothing to do on the first floor."

He sighed. "We'll come back. I'm just...you know, slightly disconcerted by the fact that everybody is not here at all."

"Whatever the room down the hall is, people are in there." Seishiro sighed. "And I thought I was the paranoid one..."

The rest of the corridor was short, ending in two seperate doors marked with male and female figures,

"Yes, a glorified bathroom," muttered Seishiro.

"No, ya dingdong!" Monokuma's voice came suddenly over the intercom.

Seishiro didn't think he'd ever get used to being randomly yelled at by a nearby speaker every now and then, based on the little shout of surprise every time it happened.

"Jeez, I'm going to have to explain this to everyone who comes here, aren't I?" Monokuma sighed dramatically. "Well! These are the change rooms that lead to the Hot Spring!"

Naoki grinned, somewhat in disbelief. "Hot spring? You're kidding."

"Nooooope! I'll let you see when you get in there. But just a little word of caution to any perverts wanting to sneak into the other change room - the moment you set foot in the wrong one, an alarm will broadcast your name and what you're doing to the entire school!"

"That...sounds a little extreme," began Seishiro.

Monokuma huffed. "I'll have you take that back right now, young man! The original plan was to vaporise you on the count of three! Can't you see I'm being merciful here? Also, the same alarm system's always been in place for the bathrooms, it's just that nobody's ever triggered it!"

"We're leaving," called Naoki, heading towards the men's room.

"Fine then! Be seeing you- no, wait, I'm always seeing you anyway! Upupupupu..." A sound quite like a phone being put down signified the end of the announcement.

"That was only marginally creepy," said Seishiro, not having moved from his spot.

Naoki gestured at him. "Nishimura-kun! Let's go in!"

Wordlessly, he followed.

The first thing that hit him was a gust of warm, humid air, a much needed break from the general coldness of the halls.

The second thing that literally hit him was the turquoise tiled floor, after he slipped in the condensation on the glass tiles and landed squarely on his behind.

"Look at that stellar entry," chortled Naoki.

"Oh, shut it."

The change room was surprisingly spacious, a central array of benches and hooks making up most of it. To the right, a row of shower cubicles and toilets, and to the left a grid of plain white lockers. A sort of condensed warm mist filled the air, carrying the muted voices of the others.

"Ugh, thank god. I haven't been able to feel my fingers for like, a month," muttered Naoki, rubbing his hands together.

Seishiro had already reached the end of the change room, turning a corner that then opened up into a much larger room. It was tiled with black, but lit with bright lights. The main features of the hot spring was a deep, L-shaped pool that bent around a sleek pillar, and a smaller hot tub to its right, a stream of bubbles breaking on the surface. It looked dark and professional, and not quite the definition of 'hot spring' that he was expecting.

"Hello," called Komi, sitting with her legs in the water on the other side of the pool. She had donned a bikini in the same light blue as her hair, which had been taken out of its usual ponytail and now cascaded down her shoulders.

"Join us," shouted Etsuko over the bubbles in the hot tub. "We're literally in Antarctica, how could you not want to be in a hot spring?!"

Behind him, Naoki emerged too from the change room. "Whoa, whoa. This looks like one of those fancy spa rooms you see in hotels."

Unusually hot water splashed onto Seishiro's sneakers. He took a step back, startled. "Quit gawking," grinned Amaya, surfacing from the deeper pool and sending another wave of water at him.

He dipped a hand into the water. The heat was such a welcome change that he didn't mind the sting. He looked up.

Yuji cannonballed into the water with a shout, the splash knocking the nearby Ryousei over.

Hitomi drifted past on her back, watching the ceiling.

Keiji sat in the hot tub opposite Etsuko, the other sounds from the hot spring drowning out his voice.

...huh _._

 _Everyone has really nice bodies..._

He felt kind of inadequate. Then again, this probably wasn't the best thing to think about.

Sure, it made sense that people with talents such as capoeirista and yogi and cheerleader would be fit, and a public figure like a comedian would probably have to be conventionally attractive. But wasn't like he was expecting her to have such... _assets_ -

"Are you perving on me?" Etsuko shouted jokingly.

"Wh-what?" Seishiro flushed, pulling his grey hood over his eyes. "I-I didn't mean-"

She leant back and laughed. "I don't mind. Look all you want," she grinned, standing up and striking a pose.

"I wasn't looking," he muttered, covering his eyes.

"Sure you weren't," called Yuji from across the room. "I wouldn't blame you. I mean, kinky hormonal teenagers-"

He was cut off by Amaya splashing water into his face. "Kinky hormonal teenagers my ass," she said, kicking off the side of the pool and twisting through the water.

The sounds of voices and laughter that echoed across the stone tiles projected a picture-perfect image of happiness. It was strange, that they were still here and still in the same reality, but it was like the mood had been turned on its head.


	13. 2-2: Daily Life

_"Hey, is it just me, or is it getting colder?"_

It started one or two days earlier. The same shower at the same temperature every day suddenly became scalding hot. One no longer felt the sudden wave of strong heat when walking past a heater. Some people had taken out their thicker jackets, or else camped out by the warmer spots.

"Rise and shine, students! It is now 7am, and daytime hours have commenced! Most off-limit rooms are now free to enter and the heaters have been turned back up! Happy murdering!"

Seishiro stumbled out of bed, half asleep. The static crackled on the intercom for a few moments, before:

"Upupupu! Attention all students! Wait- not all students, since not all of you are awake- lemme just get this up..."

Sounds of things being knocked over played on the speaker, and then-

 **BLAAAAAAAAARP.**

An airhorn sounded at about three times the volume of the regular announcement. Seishiro swore that he felt the building shake.

"Hey, it's working!"

 **BLAAAAAAAAARP.**

"C'mon! Everybody up! Hup hup hup! Because guess what time it is..." Monokuma trailed off.

Seishiro groaned.

"Thaaat's right! It's Motive time! Everybody report to the Gymnasium A-S-A-P! And if ya don't, yer dead!" The announcement ended with a click.

He tripped over his feet, heading to his closet and pulling a coat over his pyjama top. Half-changed, he heard banging on the nearby dorm room doors.

"Everybody up," shouted Misaki. "Monokuma's going to execute you!"

"That's a little redundant," replied Seishiro at the same volume, stumbling out of the door with half a shoe on.

Misaki turned. "Huh? Sorry, I guess I'm a little-"

"-overzealous?" Keiji rounded the corner, looking no different from his normal self. Seishiro supposed he really was a morning person.

Misaki, on the other hand, had untied waist-length hair and no makeup to cover the dark bags under her eyes.

She laughed dryly. "Yeah, I can be a little overbearing. It's that I don't want more people to..."

"It doesn't matter," reassured the yogi.

"I guess we should go," suggested Seishiro.

Before anyone could reply, a door to his left slammed open, and Mitsukuri Takehiko stepped out, pulling at the zippers on his black jacket. He looked up, fixing his gaze directly at Misaki.

"Woman, did it not occur to you that the announcement-followed-by-airhorns would have woken at least some of us up?"

The makeup artist cocked her head, not breaking eye contact. "I guess someone's a little grouchy without his morning coffee. I'm just acting in people's best interests."

"Yeah, if you call being pushy and completely redundant 'in people's best interests'," he replied, turning and stalking down the corridor.

"What- where are you going?!"

Takehiko stopped, but didn't turn around. "To the gym, because unlike you, I have at least some sense of self-preservation."

Misaki gave an incredulous sigh, waiting until he was out of earshot. " _Oh_ , look at me, I'm the Super High School Level Sniper," she singsonged in a mock falsetto. "I'm so _edgy_ , and _cool_ , and I don't give a _damn_ about anyone-"

"Okay, now that's mean." Keiji cut her off by holding up a palm.

"I mean, I have to admit the door-knocking was a little redundant," added Seishiro cautiously. Wait, he already said that. Whoops.

"Oh, don't you agree with him," she dismissed. "Anyway, Mistukuri's gone off on his own. Can you just go after him in case he tries anything?"

Seishiro nodded, turning down the corridor. "Yeah, sure."

Into one of the main halls of the building, he jogged to catch up with Takehiko's long strides. The sniper turned at the sound of his footsteps.

"Hey," tried Seishiro.

"Hm?" Takehiko resumed walking. "What, monitoring me for suspicious activity?"

He paused, before conceding. "Yeah."

"That's...kind of understandable. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

They rounded the corner to the gym in silence, swinging open wooden doors. The gymnasium was empty, a large, shiny expanse in their world of closed corridors and quiet rooms.

"Gooood morning," remarked Monokuma cheerfully from the podium. Neither replied.

Seishiro looked around. There didn't seem to be anything that looked like a motive...for now, he supposed. With a grunt, he sat down on the polished floor.

"What are you doing?" Takehiko questioned.

"Mentally preparing myself for a motive," groaned Seishiro.

Monokuma patted his stomach, grinning wide. "It's not that emotionally harrowing this time, I promise!"

Moments later, the twelve remaining students shambled into the gym in a partially sleep-deprived cluster.

"Yer late," cackled Monokuma. "Yer all late! And you know what the punishment for tardiness is? Death!"

Seishiro could see the panic flash behind a few individuals' eyes. Was he really going to-

"Just kidding! After all, it wouldn't be any fun if I knocked you all out of the competition straight away, right? Upupupupu..."

Seishiro let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Alrighty kiddos," motioned Monokuma. "Gather round, because boy oh boy do I have some ground-shattering news for you!"

Slowly, the clump of students spread in front of the stage.

"So...tired," muttered Yuji blearily, walking past.

"It's not that early," replied Etsuko cheerily. "C'mon! You gotta, I dunno, greet every day with a smile or something!"

Komi narrowed her eyes. "That was so weirdly optimistic. I mean, not weird for you, but just weird."

"At least there's a clear distinction between morning people and, uh, not-morning people," grumbled Amaya.

"And _mourning_ people," grinned Etsuko, motioning at Umeko.

Amaya gave a blank look. "What?"

"Geddit, because Aihara's the mortician, and mourning-"

Seishiro blinked. "Did you just make a pun?"

"Um, yeah," she replied, making jazz hands. "It's kinda my talent." She paused. "Yeah, I'm not really at the top of my game right now."

Monokuma suddenly tapped on the microphone. "Jeez, I give you one instruction and you all take forever! Maybe I really should execute you for tardiness!"

Everyone quieted, turning their attention towards their 'headmaster'.

"Wowie, I got everyone to listen to me," exclaimed Monokuma. "Anyway, the new-and-improved motive! Oh, don't give me that sad look. The motive's already been in effect for two days, I'm just explaining it to the slower-witted ones out of you!"

 _Already in effect...?_

Monokuma hopped off the podium and began pacing up and down the stage. "Starting two days ago and continuing on, at midnight every day the temperature in this school drops by 3° Celsius! That means the corridor heaters are being turned down, as well as the duct heating from the vents. Oh, and now the hot spring is the same temperature as anywhere else in the school, so there's no running from the motive! The heat will only come back when the body discovery announcement plays."

"So there isn't a cap to how low the temperature goes?" Katsuo inquired.

Monokuma put a paw on his chin in a thinking pose. "For all intents and purposes, no, since you'll all have frozen to death before we hit that cap."

"And some poor sap has to die in order to turn the heaters back on," continued the playwright. "So it's a forced motive, and we don't have a choice unlike the first. How treacherous."

"Yes," replied Monokuma, getting a little impatient. "I thought you were one of the smarter ones!"

"Just reaffirming," he said plainly.

Keiji raised his hand. "Monokuma, could you tell us what the temperature is right now?"

"15°C," the bear replied.

 **Day 3: 15°C**

The white-haired boy nodded solemnly. "Alright. Thank you."

"Anyone got any more useless questions?" Monokuma asked, pointing a finger at the group. "Nope? Well then, you're all dismissed!"

Once out of the gym, Keiji shouted: "Everybody, we need to have a meeting. Head straight to the cafeteria!"

And so the cluster of fourteen students gathered at the long table, on edge from the motive. Yuji got to work making breakfast at a rapid pace.

"Alright," said Keiji, standing up at the head of the table. "We need a plan to tackle this motive to the best of our ability, because I think we can all find some way to live through this."

"That's dreadfully optimistic of you," drawled Katsuo, resting his chin on his fist.

"We don't need attitudes right now," spoke Komi. "We need something practical."

Keiji nodded. "First course of action is probably warm clothing, as that's the most immediate. It seems like we all have wardrobes rather limited in clothing styles. I, for one, don't have any socks or jackets."

Umeko raised her hand. "Perhaps afterwards we may go through everybody's wardrobes and find who is in need of warmer clothing."

"W-wait," muttered Katsumi. "How are we going to stay warm besides that?" The blue-haired composer seemed to be already shivering from the imaginary cold.

Naoki slammed a palm on the table. "We have the incinerator. That has to stay warm, since it won't really incinerate without heat."

"You're suggesting we just camp out in that tiny incinerator room?" Seishiro puzzled.

"We can stay around the warm spots," the discus thrower reaffirmed. "There's also the oven and probably other things that give off heat."

Katsumi paused. "That has to be our last resort, right?"

Keiji mused for a bit before agreeing. "That's right. We still have a minor heat source that we can rely on."

"Hey! Breakfast!" Yuji called, sliding plates down the table.

"Thank you," said Keiji. "We should collectively work this out later."

Once again, the entire group gathered in the little dorm room section, a little cramped. So far, they had been categorised into three groups - those who didn't have sufficient clothing, those who were sufficient but couldn't afford to give up any clothing, and those with an excess of warm clothes.

And, as they soon found out, there was an alarming shortage of pants. The issue was first brought up by Komi, pointing out her wardrobe consisting only of midriff-baring cheerleading uniforms and one single fluffy jacket.

In total, Komi, Misaki, Naoki, Umeko and Katsumi all went without pants at all. It was almost a comedic situation.

And so extra clothes were handed around to those who would need them. It felt like one of those charity donation bins.

"This is sufficient for now," observed Misaki, "but we're going to need everything we can get if we want to survive to the lower temperatures." She paused, taking a deep breath. "We...might have to take from those who won't need it anymore."

Yuji looked at her. "That's kind of cryptic and disturbing, but you mean..."

"We try and get into the dead students' rooms," she affirmed.

Naoki tested Shigeko's door handle a few times to no avail.

"Outta the way," grinned Amaya, preparing to launch some sort of attack against the closed door.

"No, stop-!" Katsumi shouted, clutching a jacket to her chest. "You're going to die- hold on- don't the rules say that you can't tamper with locked doors?"

"Yeah," agreed Ryousei, waving his ElectroID around. "But that means we can't get into the rooms."

Seishiro nodded slowly. "Unless...we could ask Monokuma, but I don't think he'd let us-"

"Upupupupu! What makes you think I'd be so harsh?" The nearest speakers blasted the bear's squeaky voice.

Hitomi didn't turn to face the speaker like everyone else. "You...heard that...can you...open the doors?"

"Well...since I'm...feeling...merciful...today," began Monokuma, imitating the astrologer, "and...I feel...the need...to speak...like this... Whew, that's tiring!"

Hitomi's mouth pressed into a straight line.

"Actually, while I'm at it, I'll add a new rule right now. Be sure to check your ElectroIDs!" The announcement shut off.

Moments later, two soft clicks sounded in unison, followed by the simultaneous vibrations of every student's ElectroID.

Seishiro opened his. Beneath his name and talent on the front screen was a notification reading that the rules had been updated.

He clicked on the blinking Rules tab, and saw that a new rule had indeed been added.

 **10\. Upon a student's death, their dorm room will be immediately unlocked and remain that way indefinitely.**

That seemed innocuous enough. He looked up to see that everyone had either read or was reading the rule. Behind him, Etsuko opened Shigeko's door silently.

"I'll...go to the other side," muttered Seishiro.

"Hey, wait, I'm coming with you," shouted Ryousei, following.

At the other side of the dorm rooms, Seishiro stood in front of the door with Yoshikazu's plaque on it. He reached for his ElectroID out of habit, before realising he didn't have to.

The gardener's room was of the same layout as Seishiro's, but with a black and dark green colour scheme and different decorations. Most notably there was a small tree in a floor pot beside the desk, and a little yellow, moss-looking plant on a bedside table. Both had withered a little with neglect.

It felt odd, going through a dead person's things. Disrespectful.

"All this stuff is pretty warm," mentioned Ryousei, having opened Yoshikazu's closet. The sailor pulled out a heavy trenchcoat that was nearly the height of him.

Seishiro came up beside him. "That's pretty good - only issue is size, I guess."

"That can be arranged," came a voice from the door.

He jumped up in a panic at the sudden sound.

"Whoa, Toru-san, I thought you were a ghost or something," Ryousei gasped.

"Sorry," smiled Misaki, eyes downcast. "I think I can help with that - learned a bit of sewing from being in the costume department of a few movie sets."

Seishiro, having recovered from his minor heart attack, nodded. "That's a good idea. I guess we gotta take all this stuff out of the room first, though."

He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He didn't want to touch this room. It felt wrong taking, changing someone else's belongings without permission, especially when that person was still here just a little while ago. And yet there wasn't any way to ask him, was there?

 _Of course there wasn't_ , he thought bitterly.

He wondered, for a moment, if they were taking things from Shigeko's room. He hoped they weren't. Treating their belongings like public domain felt like he was denying that they ever existed. He supposed it had to be accepted; the owners of those rooms were long gone.

"Hey," said Misaki, right next to him. "Are you okay?" She came to his front, honey-brown eyes watching him like a hawk.

"Yeah, it's...I'm alright."

"Really?" The word was like a challenge of power, but she said it with mirth and a little hint of skepticism and suddenly he wasn't sure how to read her.

It was for them, right? Destroying the only things that reminded them of their classmates' existence so that they could live.

 _Life._

Didn't _he_ once say that everybody was deserving of life?

Seishiro shook the conflicting thoughts from his head. "It's okay - I can deal with things."

"If you say so. But...sometimes, keeping things to yourself isn't always the best course of action. Just know that if you need to talk, I'll happily oblige you." Misaki turned to collect things from the closet against the wall - it seemed that Ryousei had already gone.

He stared at the open closet, before scooping up an armful of the remaining clothes and leaving the door open behind him.

Later that day, as he walked past Misaki on a classroom floor, the eye of a storm made from sewing materials and Yoshikazu's clothes, he felt that something in this world had been irreplaceably destroyed.

 **Day 4: 12°C**

"I think there's something huge we haven't brought up yet," said Komi at breakfast. "When the temperature hits zero, all of the water here is going to freeze over, including the external sources and running water."

The table nodded, practically in unison.

"How come no one though of that yesterday?" Yuji pressed.

"I did," mentioned Umeko, "but you all seemed so engrossed in your current task I thought that it would be a secondary issue."

Takehiko raised an eyebrow. "I don't think us dying of dehydration is really a secondary issue right now."

"Hypothermia or dehydration," the mortician asserted. "They are equally pressing matters in our current situation."

Keiji took in a sharp breath. "I don't think it matters who thought of the issue or didn't. We'll just have to find a way around it."

"Best course of action would be to fill as many containers as possible with water," began Yuji, "and then use the oven to melt the ice when it freezes over."

"There are still plastic containers that'll melt in the oven," pointed out Seishiro.

Amaya grinned. "We use something to break the ice in those containers and put it in something oven-safe."

Meanwhile, Etsuko had gotten up and was now moving her hands dangerously close to the hot metal rod of a heater. "Hey guys," she called, "the heaters are still warmer than the air. They're not the same temperature as before, but chances are these things aren't going to go into the negatives."

"So we could keep things next to the heater to keep them a little warm," confirmed Katsumi.

"If clothes were our priority yesterday, then we should all focus on storing water today," agreed Misaki. "This might not be the best way to go about things - single-mindedly focusing on a single aspect of survival might leave us with gaping holes in our plan much later. But...we'll talk this over. Let's try and get some containers right now."

Sort of in a ragged pile, they fanned out from the cafeteria and split into different directions.

The resulting raid for watertight containers left storage rooms ransacked and classroom doors ajar, and by evening the cafeteria was a minefield of buckets, pots, containers and the like filled to the brim with water.

They had tried to hang plastic garbage bags of water from door handles, but that idea had to be left for later as on three seperate occasions some unfortunate student had unwittingly turned the door handle on the other side and dumped a giant bag of water onto the linoleum.

Content with the work done for today, the night-time announcement rang.

 **Day 5: 9°C**

Their days with temperature in the positives were running out, but there wasn't much anyone found that they could do besides sitting and waiting for someone else to come up with a brilliant suggestion.

People had sort of started avoiding the cafeteria after Yuji, in a bid to reach the coffee machine, stepped in a bowl of water, fell, and managed to tip about three buckets of water onto himself.

They had sort of come to an arrangement where the entire far wall was lined with buckets and pots of water in an area about the size of the long table they all sat at.

"It's cold," shouted Yuji, draped lethargically over his chair.

"We know," replied Komi, imitating his tone of voice.

And so they sat, feeling the need to be productive but finding nothing to do.

 **Day 6: 6°C**

That day, Seishiro walked past Umeko's door as she stepped out, placing a handful of white candles on the floor.

She went back in and out again, this time with a little cardboard box, setting it by the candles.

He looked at her.

She looked up. "Oh, Nishimura-san. May I implore you to help me for a moment?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he replied, a little awkwardly.

Umeko nodded, smiling. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, the door to her dorm room had clicked shut on its own, so she turned to unlock it again.

"Come," said the mortician, keeping the door open with her back.

"Wait, am I allowed to go into your room?" Seishiro asked.

"I am fairly sure that there is no rule against it," confirmed Umeko, "and I only require you to hold something. It helps that you are tall."

He nodded, a little cautious. "Okay, I guess."

Umeko's room was different, Seishiro realised, as he stepped onto black patterned carpet. It still had the same size and layout as his or Yoshikazu's, but with black and mauve in its colours, a match to her dress and hair. What was more interesting was the furniture and decorations - rather than the modern feel of his room, hers had some sort of gothic vibe, with carved intricacies into the headboard of her bed and doors of her closet.

A single, empty candelabra sat on her desk, next to an out-of-place-looking lighter. Suspended above the bed was a simple brass...chandelier? It seemed like one.

"What did you need me for?" Seishiro asked.

"Not much. Remove your shoes and stand on the bed," said Umeko, following suit. She reached for the bottom of the small chandelier, gloved fingers curling around a thin section.

The bed dipped under his feet, balanced out by Umeko's weight on the other side.

"I will hold the bottom of this," she began, "and I require you to pull the candles out of the top. They are a little bit stuck, you should use both your hands."

"Uh, yep, okay," nodded Seishiro, standing on his toes and reaching up. The holder seemed to be an ill fit for the candle, as it didn't give at all when he pulled.

Suddenly, Umeko gave a 'hm' that sounded somewhere between annoyed and pondering. "I do not like this. At all."

"Like what? What I'm doing? Me?" Seishiro lost his grip on the chandelier, a little startled at her sudden declaration.

"This place. This situation."

He tried to crack a smile, reaching back up for the first candle.

"You know, I'd be kinda concerned if you did actually like it here."

The logic seemed to only just dawn on her. "True."

"And besides, since you're the Super High School Level Mortician, I thought you'd be less bothered by death- crap, that came out wrong. Ignore me." Seishiro refocused on twisting the candle out of place, as if concentrating solely on this one task would render his previous statement nonexistent.

An amused look flashed across the dark-clad girl's face, before hardening into a serious one. "Really? That is not completely true. Although, there is definitely a different reason that I have."

"Oh. Yeah?"

Something inside the holder scraped at bits of the wax as the candle twisted up and out of its place, dropping with a thump onto the bed. At least he figured out the optimal way to pull them out.

"Yes, well..." Umeko took her supporting hand off the chandelier as Seishiro shook the blood flow back into his hands. "This modern world as it is...is incredibly materialistic. People always want bigger, they want more. Bigger houses. More money. Better jobs."

Seishiro twisted out the second candle, trying to maintain eye contact to show her that he was still paying attention. It didn't really work but she seemed to get the message he was trying to convey.

She continued without a pause. "So then...around death, that changes. You realise and appreciate what is already around you, and what is no longer there. Death is a catalyst for a lot of important things in a person's life."

"So it's like...you don't know what you've got until it's gone," he said.

Two candles down. Halfway.

Umeko thought for a bit. "In a sense. But then here...people die, but when that happens, we suddenly become focused on survival ourselves."

"It's all one big event after another and we don't get time to think," he realised. "Even now, we're all so focused on the motive and how to stay alive and we...kind of forget what happened."

The third candle was stuck, he gave his arms a break before trying again.

"This motive." Umeko abruptly changed the subject. "What do you think of it?"

Seishiro paused, thinking. "Realistically thinking- ugh, sorry, this is really pessimistic- we probably don't stand a chance. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try, maybe we can actually hold out."

She averted her gaze. "I feel like a lot of us are secretly hoping that someone else - not them - fulfils the motive."

"I think if anyone kills now...it'd be more like a sacrifice. But I wouldn't know."

There was an unreadable change of expression on Umeko's face. Maybe she was interrogating him to see if he was capable of killing.

Or maybe she was planning something herself.

Had he always been this suspicious?

He absent-mindedly pulled at the final candle.

"After spending so much time as - well, my talent - I think I stopped fearing death. But...that does not mean that I will accept dying like this." Umeko looked forlorn, but determined. "I hope that we will work together to defeat this motive."

"Yeah." He tried to smile optimistically. "No one else has to die."

Twisting the fourth, slightly scratched candle out of its place, he dropped it on the bed and landed on the ground with a thud.

Umeko joined him, albeit in a more graceful manner, pulling her discarded shawl around herself. "Thank you."

For the candles or for listening?

 _Both_ , he decided.

"What's with your sudden candle fixation?" He asked casually.

"It will not be exactly lifesaving, I suppose, but..." the mortician trailed off, as if deciding on a word, before: "Portable fire."

Seishiro wasn't sure whether to be amused or not. "That's certainly an apt description," he remarked.

"I also have a lighter," she mentioned.

"That's good, at least it's on someone level-headed."

"Why do you mention that?"

Seishiro signified an explosion with his hands. "Boom."

Umeko closed her eyes for a bit. "That could actually be helpful - provided that you can do it safely, although with such a talent I have little to fear."

He sighed. "I don't think Monokuma would take kindly to trying to blast our way out - and I probably don't have the materials to do it anyway."

"It could always be a backup plan, although I do see your point."

"Yeah." Seishiro looked down. He wasn't sure if he was considering it as a serious possibility or not.

"Hm. Anyways, thank you for assisting me out of nowhere," she said pleasantly.

He took steps towards the door. "It wasn't a problem. See you around, yeah?"

And so he walked away, sort of satisfied that he had gotten to know a valuable ally, but also unsure if he had suddenly become a potential murder suspect or not.

 **Day 7: 3°C**

"It's our last day of running water," shouted Naoki. "Better savour it!"

"Wait wait," began Ryousei. "We aren't going to be able to take showers anymore, right?"

"You could always use a bucket and sponge, but that could be a waste of water," replied Keiji.

The sailor looked dismayed for a moment. "Oh well. It's okay, I've gone dirtier before."

The situation was becoming more and more bleak. The cafeteria had become the default spot for everyone to hang around in, and a lot of the classroom, greenhouse and hallway heaters had already been moved inside the room.

It was a wordless decision that it would be best to congregate everyone in one room and keep that room as warm as possible, and the cafeteria was the largest room that was actually furnished and liveable.

Of course, 'warm' was an understatement.

"I haven't been able to feel my toes since this morning, I think that could possibly be an issue," muttered Komi, half-seriously. She sat rigidly on one of the cafeteria's folding chairs, clutching a mug of hot chocolate like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to this mortal realm.

"Neither have I," replied Seishiro. His toes were pale and tingly and he was sort of afraid the blood flow had cut off completely. He found himself blowing hot air on his hands every few seconds to avoid his fingers potentially suffering the same fate.

"I'm doing alright," called Yuji from somewhere behind the kitchen counter. A tuft of navy hair was all that was visible of him.

Komi made a frustrated noise. "That's because you've been camped in front of the oven door, wrapped in a blanket, since this morning."

"Look, I'm being innovative, energy-efficient and-"

"Do something productive!" Amaya called, sprinting into the room, around the table and then out again.

She, Naoki, Keiji and (oddly enough) Etsuko had taken to an endless routine of running up and down the hall between the cafeteria and the greenhouse to keep warm, the comedian falling a few laps behind the other three.

"Ah, screw," said Komi harshly, setting her mug down on the table so hard it rattled. "I need something monotonous to do." The cheerleader shoved up off her chair and ran off down the hall, presumably to follow the others running laps.

Having settled down after a dinner rife with complaints of the cold, Yuji stood to address the intended plan for tomorrow.

"Okay," he yelled. "So tonight we'll get all the garbage bags, fill them up and hang them in places that no one will touch."

"And then tomorrow we get a bunch of bag-shaped giant ice blocks," finished Etsuko.

Amaya wrinkled her nose. "Sounds weird when you put it like that, but that's actually a pretty damn smart idea."

"Yeah - so all of that, plus the buckets from the janitor's closet, soft drink bottles, cooking pots, cups, bowls etcetera..." the barista trailed off.

"That should last us," remarked Etsuko cheerily.

 _It wouldn't._

There had always been this thought in the back of everyone's minds - that there was really no way to get around the motive, that they'd all die if someone didn't do something.

But there was also this unspoken agreement to play along, to cling onto this false hope, this child's delusion that they could make it. After all, working, doing something - it made them feel useful. Hopeful.

The temperature was dropping every day, it was becoming more and more obvious. Seishiro didn't know how much longer they had, with their finite resources destined to run out someday. And at this rate-

Somebody was going to have to kill.


	14. 2-3: Daily Life

**Day 8: 0°C**

It was cold.

Seishiro had taken to sleeping in a jacket and socks, and one basically couldn't survive without at least a good three layers on.

Out of habit, he stumbled to the bathroom and went to turn on the tap. Nothing came out.

Ah, the external water sources were frozen. He expected to turn on a lot of taps out of sheer muscle memory before his brain caught up.

Seishiro breathed on his hands, flinching at the freezing metal handle of his door. As the handle turned, something dropped with a clunk on the other side. The door opening outward pushed the large object out of the way.

A black garbage bag with ice solidly frozen in it, from Yuji's plan yesterday. A good deal of the other rooms had bags hanging from them too - the occupants of the ones that didn't had presumably removed them.

"Morning, Nishimura-kun," called a chipper voice. He looked to his right to see Etsuko and Misaki wiping at a massive wet patch on the carpet by the heater, Komi standing a ways off holding up the tops of four big garbage bags.

The comedian stopped to grin at him and wave.

"Take the bag to the classroom on the left of the staircase," droned Misaki without looking up.

Etsuko squeezed her wet cloth into one of Komi's bags.

"Uh, you need help?" Seishiro asked.

"No," said Misaki.

"Yes," said Komi at the same time.

"Maybe," added Etsuko mischievously.

He addressed the blue-haired cheerleader. "What did you need?"

Komi sighed. "Wait, take your ice bag thing to the classroom first, then take these bags-" -she moved her right arm a little, trying not to spill any water- "-and hang them up somewhere that isn't near a heater, make sure nobody touches them."

"Uh, okay," he agreed. He looked at her and and her wool-lined jacket and- _hey, were those his pants?!_

Wait. They _were_ his pants. She was wearing them because she didn't have any. Seishiro internally smacked himself.

"And don't ask. My door is in the corner right next to a heater, so the bag didn't freeze and it all spilled this way. And now I'm imprisoned here," she said, trying to motion at the water that would undoubtedly go everywhere if she let go. "These ones were next to heaters too, so they're still liquid."

"That's unfortunate," he remarked, amused.

He did as told, dragging heavy bags of water across the hall and propping them up on a storage room handle before heading to the cafeteria.

"Uh, guys, Fujiwara-" he started.

"We know," said Takehiko abruptly.

"Oh." Seishiro sat down, defeated.

Crouched by the oven were Yuji and Keiji, a baking tray filled with bits of ice inside. Nearby, Amaya was trying to disassemble some kind of oddly shaped blue container.

"Three seconds without air, three hours without shelter, three days without water and three weeks without food," recited Katsumi softly.

"Wait, you're suggesting we only drink every three days?" Ryousei panicked.

The composer looked upset. "What I'm saying is that we aren't going to last!"

"For once, I have to agree with Lady Pessimism here," said Katsuo simply. He stood up, before proclaiming in a loud voice, slowly as if he was talking to a child: "I really hope that somebody unimportant kills someone - hopefully themself - to save us all from this terrible fate."

"I hope you kill yourself," blurted out Amaya, before back-pedalling suddenly. "I...did not actually intend that."

Katsuo hummed, as if he were pondering something over-dramatically. "You know, if I were any more generous and self-sacrificing, I'd take you up on that suggestion." A pause. "But I'm not, so we're left in this stalemate." The playwright leant back, seemingly pleased with himself.

"Okay, I do actually intend that now," muttered Amaya bitterly.

"That's the problem," said Takehiko. "If I didn't value my life, I'd kill him-" the sniper jabbed a thumb in Katsuo's direction, "-and then kill myself to spare me from an execution."

"Yeah, well, it's all great to say you'd figuratively kill someone, but the motive isn't up until someone actually dies," grumbled Naoki.

Hitomi sighed loudly. "We only have...two choices. Let the temperature...keep falling...or else somebody...will have to give in."

"No, really?" Seishiro said, more bitter than usual. "Can I take a third option?"

"Now now, what's with all the negativity?" A seemingly oblivious Keiji strode up to the table and handed Seishiro a glass of steaming water.

He grasped the glass, thankful for its warmth, and regarded it as if it were liquid gold. Then again, it might as well have been.

"If I may...I present a moral dilemma," began Umeko. "Would it not be better to all die here to this motive than to continue to play Monokuma's game?"

Seishiro considered the possibility. It would be the noble choice, but then...

"I don't want to die," he muttered under his breath.

Katsuo had apparently heard, giving him a condescending look. "How very noble of you."

"Lives are not to be gambled with," continued Umeko, ignoring them. "And if we refuse to play by the rules of the game, it will deprive the bear - whoever is behind him and the people they stand with - of what they want."

"You sound as if you know what they want," challenged Katsuo.

"Oh, stop being problematic," shouted Yuji from across the room.

"I am _not_ being problematic-" Umeko startled, offended.

"Not you, him!"

"Would you care to educate me on your personal definition of 'problematic'? What I'm doing is-"

"-being an asshole."

"Such uncouth words, only to be expected of someone cut from the sort of cloth that you are."

Sighing at their little back-and-forth and grateful for the distraction, Seishiro readjusted himself on the folding chair and stared down at the glass of hot water.

What kind of stupid, impossible situation even was this?

About an hour after dinner Seishiro and Etsuko walked side by side down the hallway, going to no discernible destination.

He had found that complaining about the cold had gotten very repetitive and annoying, so he stayed silent and watched his breath condense in the air. His fingers tingled.

"You thinking about the motive?" Etsuko inquired, tilting her head. "Don't. The more you're conscious of it the colder it'll feel."

"Wait, how did you know that?"

"Psychic powers," the comedian winked, wiggling her fingers. "Nah, I guess I can just read people, you know?"

Seishiro rolled his eyes. "Jeez, it's like you've known me for ages."

She shrugged and turned to face him, black hair catching in the limited light. "Is that a bad thing? I mean, if it is-"

"No, it's nice," he assured. "And besides - we're all victims of circumstance here. We don't really know each other, but we're stuck here."

"Well, let's get to know each other!" Etsuko proclaimed, playfully punching him on the arm. "Y'know, build camaraderie, etcetera. Tell me something about you! Actually- haven't you watched me before? When was that? How was it? It's okay if you say 'utterly terrible, I can handle worse."

He sighed, thinking. "Like, three years ago. I don't even remember that much. Two of my friends were going to go, but then one of them had to bail and I got offered the spare ticket."

"Oh good, not an uber-fan. I mean, I'm kind of niche, right?"

"I wouldn't say that. Most people have heard of you, but then again stand-up comedy isn't exactly the latest fad around here."

"Oof, harsh," she joked.

"Crap- sorry?"

Etsuko laughed - it was almost a cackle - and recovered with a little hop in her step. "Hah, you're always taking everything so seriously."

"Oh, come on, I don't always-"

 **CRASH.**

"...the hell?" Seishiro jumped at the noise. It was like something large shattering, coming from-

"The greenhouse?" Etsuko offered, continuing to the end of the corridor, staying ahead of him.

Something sank in Seishiro's stomach. The greenhouse...again?

Thankfully, he didn't have much time to panic. Etsuko waved through the glass wall and called out. "Hey, Ichisada-chan, uh, Mitsukuri-kun!"

He could understand Hitomi being in the greenhouse at night, what with astrology and all, but Takehiko? Really? Wasn't it cold in there?

Seishiro walked close enough to the room to be able to see inside - it was dark out and it was illuminated by two measly uncovered light globes. In the far corner Hitomi sat in a heap before the pieces of a large floor pot.

He followed Etsuko in.

"Hi," she chirped. "Are you okay? Uh, what are you doing in here?"

"I'm...clearing a space," replied Hitomi, unfazed.

Etsuko nodded, rephrasing the question. "I mean, why are you in the greenhouse?"

"Watching stars," she said simply. "Would you...like to?"

"Sure," she cheered. "Nishimura-kun? C'mon, social interaction is good for people!"

But...the greenhouse, it was-

"I mean, you don't actually have to," conceded Etsuko.

"N-no, I'll go." He would get over it. He had to.

Etsuko folded her arms behind her back and leaned in front of him, seemingly sensing his apprehension. "You know, if you're not okay, I'm here to talk, yeah?"

"Yeah. Nothing's wrong, but...thanks."

Hitomi had shoved a lot of the junk cluttering the greenhouse to the sides of the room, leaving a slightly soiled area of concrete floor in the centre.

She now sat on a neatly folded bedsheet in the centre of the chaos. Etsuko barged straight in, Seishiro split off from her to drag in a chair from a nearby classroom.

Awkwardly wedged in a corner was Takehiko, looking oddly out of place. They made brief eye contact as Seishiro wedged the chair in through the door.

He opened his mouth to ask, but his question was anticipated.

"I'm waiting for her to give my jacket back," Takehiko said gruffly.

He closed his mouth and looked at Hitomi, and realised that the comically oversized black coat she had on was his.

"So you're just going to stand here and glare threateningly at us all?"

Takehiko paused. "Yeah."

"O-kay then." The wooden chair rattled as he dragged it to the centre of the greenhouse, falling back on it with a clunk.

It was insanely cold, much colder than the cafeteria. Someone had kidnapped a few of the corridor heaters (or maybe those heaters were originally in the greenhouse?) and moved them in, but it did little to alleviate the numbness seeping into his extremities.

Seishiro hunched over his chair, resting his forearms on his knees. Hitomi leant backwards, the limited light catching on her pale face.

"Look," she said. "That would be...the Southern Cross. Do you see?" To Seishiro, she gestured aimlessly at something above.

"Yeah," he lied. He looked at a shapeless patch of faraway stars, frantically searching for whatever it was that Hitomi had pointed out. He settled on a group of four or five of the brightest stars and hoped he was looking in the correct place. "Are constellations even part of astrology?"

"Somewhat," she said, matter-of-factly. "But I just...like them."

Seishiro sighed. "I don't get this- how would you be a Super High School Level Astrologer?"

"I...already am that," replied Hitomi, confused.

"That wasn't what I meant," he said. "I mean, how would you do astrology at a Super High School Level, if it's not a science?"

She regarded him blankly.

"I'm just going to stop talking, right now," he muttered, trying to take back the awkward wording of his already-awkward question.

"And word vomit claims yet another victim," cackled Etsuko.

"Astrology is...still the study of something," said Hitomi suddenly. "Divination, through the position of...celestial bodies. It...is pseudoscience."

Oh. She sort of got his gist.

"So then...I study and practice...this process of divination."

"And besides," sighed Etsuko. "Didn't Hope's Peak scout some Clairvoyant or something? That's got even less evidence going for it."

"Did you know...one quarter of people...believe that astrology affects their lives?" Hitomi began. "You don't...do you?"

Seishiro paused, wondering if he would offend her. "Not really. At least, I don't think it's scientifically valid, but I've got nothing against it."

"Move over," said Etsuko, tapping Seishiro on the shoulder. "I don't wanna sit on the floor and I'm too lazy to get a chair," she winked.

He rolled his eyes and slid to the edge of the wooden chair. Etsuko sat on the other side, pressing their backs together. The ends of her black side tail tickled his neck and he wasn't quite sure how to feel.

Etsuko seamlessly continued the conversation. "You know, I think it's good to believe in something bigger than ourselves. It kind of secures you in the world, you know?"

"Yes...that seems to happen," agreed Hitomi. "Personally...to think that all of these people...across history and across cultures...all looked at the same stars as we do now..."

"Okay, this is getting deep," mentioned Etsuko jokingly. "I don't think I can handle this."

Hitomi ignored her. "It is an art...that connects people across time and space. That's why...I believe it to be...so important."

Behind them, the previously silent Takehiko cleared his throat. "This is all very sentimental, but we're kind of ignoring the fact that we're all trapped and people are dying. I don't think any amount of star divination is going to help us."

"Okay, way to kill the mood," muttered Seishiro.

Hitomi shot him a disapproving look.

"Hey," shouted Etsuko suddenly, breaking the brief silence. "Do you dare me to lick the glass and see if my tongue gets stuck?"

"No," chorused Seishiro and Takehiko.

"Well, Ichisada-chan hasn't said anything so I'm taking that as a yes!"

"...no," said Hitomi, about half a second too late.

"May I remind you of the one that's 'killing the mood' of literally this entire situation?" Takehiko said pointedly. Seishiro ignored him.

Meanwhile, Etsuko poked her tongue out and stuck to the wall for a few seconds, before pulling off. "Aww, disappointing!"

"You wanted to get stuck to the wall?" Seishiro marvelled.

"Well, I've never done it before, so- ack! Greenhouse tastes disgusting!" She panicked, wiping her tongue on the back of her hand. "Oh crap, now my hand's cold."

"That's what you get for indiscriminately licking surfaces," quipped Takehiko, who even seemed a little amused.

Etsuko laughed at herself, seemingly. She was like a breath of fresh air in everyone's melancholy mood, and Seishiro supposed he was grateful.

 **Day 9: -3°C**

Keeping his hands wrapped in a towel, Seishiro had found, was an alright substitute for gloves.

Walking around as a giant lump of blanket with a head poking out of it, Yuji had found, was a very good substitute for doing anything.

They sort of split into two groups - the athletic, energetic ones who were trying to keep warm by constantly being in motion, and the ones who were content with sitting in a pile of blankets by a heater.

"Guys, there's a problem," muttered Amaya, crouching by the pile of ice-filled buckets etcetera. "It's been one day and we're already a quarter of the way through this."

Komi wrinkled her nose. "Nobody even washed yesterday, as far as I know."

"See, look," began Yuji, "we have to drink, wash hands, clean stuff and cook a lot of the time, and that's taking a constant toll because we can't not do those things." He paused. "There was probably a better way to word that," he clumsily tacked on.

"I think we've forgotten the resources that we already have," said Keiji knowingly. "The hot spring is the same temperature as everything else in here besides heaters, but unlike the external water sources we can physically access it. There's an entire swimming pool's worth of water in there."

"The question is whether or not it is drinkable," pressed Umeko. "Is it chlorinated?"

Ryousei began to speak, but was quickly cut off. "Umm, I don't think so-"

"Hey! Monokuma!" Naoki shouted suddenly, making a few jump. "Can we drink the hot spring water?"

A pause, then the typical intercom static.

"Well yes, of course you can drink it, I'm sure you're all physically capable of putting water in your mouth and then swallowing it! You may drink it as well! Upupupu!"

"Well, that was helpful," grumbled Komi.

"Rephrasing question," proclaimed Seishiro. "Will drinking the water in the hot spring be detrimental to our health?"

"Ooh, using big words to sound smart," Monokuma mocked. "And as for that question...well, I guess you won't know until someone tries!"

"Helpful," repeated Komi, exasperated.

"I got some in my mouth...once," mentioned Ryousei. "And I'm okay!"

Takehiko grunted. "Getting some in your mouth isn't the same as having to drink it for survival."

"But it definitely isn't chlorinated," added Seishiro. "If all else fails we can just boil it a few times and hope for the best." It would kill bacteria, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't do much for any added chemicals.

"We can drink the collected tap water and use the hot spring water for cleaning and washing," said Keiji. "The important part is that we now have a second water source."

"Still finite," Katsumi muttered under her breath nearby.

Keiji didn't hear her. "I propose that some of us go upstairs and try to get the ice out of the hot spring."

"Sure, why not?" Komi sighed, standing up. "I need something to do."

"I'll go with," said Seishiro. "We probably have to move the heaters up, as far as I know nobody's been up there since the motive first started."

Umeko stood and followed. "I have a lighter," she added simply.

"Four of us is probably enough," mentioned Komi. She unplugged the nearest heater and carried it by the bottom, careful not to burn herself. It was odd, seeing someone with such a lithe frame hoist up something almost the same height as her, but then again, she was a cheerleader.

They had left a line of about four heaters down the middle of the corridor, but the heavy change room doors had proved a bit much and they were forced to leave the hot spring at (the currently very negative) room temperature.

The change room felt weird without the steam condensing in the air, Seishiro had noted to Keiji, who agreed. Meeting with Komi and Umeko at the other side, they stared awkwardly down at the hot spring, which now somewhat resembled a skating rink.

"It is a lot deeper than I expected," observed Umeko. "Where would we start?"

Seishiro pointed at the small candle she was holding. "Maybe just light that and put it somewhere?"

"That candle is tiny," refuted Komi. "We should probably try breaking the ice- oh, I have an idea!" She clasped her hands together and made a break for the changing room, running out of sight.

"Wait, don't go alone-" shouted Keiji to deaf ears. "It was dangerous to do that," he sighed, a little stressed.

"Aihara-san, you should probably just try fire until she comes back," said Seishiro.

Umeko complied, lighting the candle and walking towards the largest pool. However, instead of setting it down at an edge, she walked unflinchingly onto the ice. With a shout, her right foot lost its grip on the surface. For a moment, Seishiro saw her as if suspended in the air, before she crashed onto the frozen hot spring with a muted 'oof'. The candle extinguished itself and rolled to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Keiji yelled, rushing to the side of the icy surface.

Seishiro followed, almost stepping onto the ice to reach for Umeko. She awkwardly pulled herself up into a squatting position, quite unlike the elegant manner in which she usually carried herself.

Umeko braced herself with her hands and inched towards the edge. Seishiro reached out to pull her by the wrist, and she gave a soft 'ouch' when they made contact. She reached the black tiled floor and pulled herself up, trying to regain her composure.

Keiji reached out into the middle the ice with his leg, and kicked the dropped lighter back towards him.

"Well then," muttered Umeko, brushing invisible dirt from her dress. "Shall we pretend that this particular incident never occurred?"

"I'm more concerned as to whether or not you injured yourself from falling that hard on ice," replied Keiji, handing her back her lighter.

Umeko dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "People have fallen worse before."

"Now that that's out of the way, can you please explain why you decided it was a good idea to walk directly onto the ice?" Seishiro asked in a bewildered tone.

"If it actually worked, I thought it would be beneficial to start at the centre," she discussed. "If one started to melt the ice at the edge, one would have to jump down into the empty parts of the pool to access the central area. It would take quite some effort to climb out from the bottom, based on that fact that it appears to be deeper than we are tall."

"With all due respect, I'm fairly sure that someone would have to jump down regardless of where we started," countered Keiji.

Umeko took a step back, hands raised defensively. "I simply did not see that possibility. Similarly to how I did not know standing on ice like that would cause me to slip. I could not accurately model it because I have never seen nor experienced it before."

Seishiro opened his mouth and closed it.

Suddenly, the girls' change room opened and Komi stumbled out, followed by a slightly confused-looking Amaya. Under Komi's arm was a shovel, a roll of duct tape hanging off the handle. Amaya held her sheathed golden blade, which Seishiro hadn't seen since the trial.

"Oh look, a distraction," Umeko muttered under her breath.

"Idea," said Komi somewhat breathlessly. She unceremoniously dumped the miscellaneous items on the floor. "Here."

Amaya raised her arms defensively, still holding up the sword. "I had no part in this. Heck, I didn't even want to take this thing out of my room. Sorry," she winced.

"It's the largest sharp object we have," justified Komi. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the blade out of Amaya's hands and wedged it into the wooden handle of the shovel with considerable difficulty. Supporting the shovel with her foot, she unrolled the duct tape with her teeth and wrapped it thickly around the part where the sword was embedded into the handle.

Seishiro could somewhat see what she was doing. The curved blade attached to the base of the shovel crudely resembled an ice pick - or rather, an ice pick's much unsafer cousin.

Komi, apparently having finished wrapping about half the roll onto the makeshift weapon, cut off the duct tape with an exposed part of the blade.

Amaya stared, dumbfounded. "Fujiwara-chan, what the heck are you doing?"

"Innovating," the cheerleader replied enigmatically. She picked up the makeshift tool and made a move to strike the frozen-over hot spring.

"Wait," gasped Keiji, reaching out to stop her. "It's not safe-"

Komi swung the ice pick over her head and struck the ice with an almighty crack. She stepped back, looking at what she'd done. The blade was embedded a few centimetres into the ice, irregular cracks spreading out from the point of impact like sharp tendrils.

"Huh," said Komi, a little surprised. "It worked."

"Would it not have been better to just use the shovel on its own?" Umeko questioned.

"It worked," she repeated drily. "If it works, I'm not changing it." She pulled out the pick, before moving to try again in a different spot.

"Be careful," called Keiji.

Komi struck again, but it seemed that the duct tape had loosened from the first impact, and this time the blade ripped itself from the handle of the shovel, bouncing off the ice and about a metre into the air.

Seishiro shouted in a state of panic, even though the flying sharp object was travelling away from him. Komi yelped and jumped back too. The sword slid away across the ice with a soft scraping noise.

Keiji sighed very audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll...go get that." He weaved his way around the frozen pools.

"Dammit," groaned Komi.

Seishiro's heart pounded. If the blade had flown off at a different angle, it could've...

He paused, walking over to inspect the point of impact. Another fresh set of cracks, joining with the ones made by the first strike. He reached his fingers into the indent and pushed to the side, pleasantly surprised when a piece of ice as long as his hand slid smoothly out of a groove between the two indents.

"So it was successful," said Umeko from somewhere above him, incredulous. "Hardly what I expected from such a risky manoeuvre."

"Uh, it worked," called Seishiro to Keiji at the other side of the room.

Keiji had picked up the sword by its hilt and now held it as far away from himself as possible, as if it were a disgusting object he hated to touch. Then again, Seishiro supposed, the implement that had already been used to take someone's life would undoubtedly be seen as abhorrent.

"I see," said the yogi calmly. "Now that we know we can break the ice, we just need to find a safer way of going about it."

A pause.

"More duct tape?" Amaya suggested cheerfully.

 **Day 10: -6°C**

The next morning, Keiji taped several pieces of paper to the wall in a column.

"What the heck is that?" Yuji called from his spot by the oven.

"Perhaps it would serve you to walk five metres and look at it," commented Umeko.

Keiji largely ignored her and explained. "Considering that we successfully broke the ice in the hot spring, we all ought to work together to collect that and turn it into usable water. I calculated this schedule so that we can all cycle through being upstairs and down here."

"What?" Misaki asked. "Can't we just pull what you did yesterday and just have one group of people doing it?"

"It's literally freezing up there, you can't stay somewhere as cold as that for such a long time," affirmed Seishiro.

"Yes," said Keiji. "Each person will move independently so that no person spends a long amount of time in the cold hot spring. This schedule ensures maximum efficiency, since the number of people working upstairs will remain a constant. It also guarantees that no person will be alone at any point in time, because you'll always pass someone in the corridor. If you move at your scheduled time and don't walk past anyone else, then we know something is wrong."

"Whoa, okay," said Yuji, incredulous. "Sounds like we're a factory."

Keiji laughed lightly. "We begin at in...thirteen minutes, that's 8:00. Each individual will spend thirty minutes at a time upstairs, with somebody going up and down every six minutes. Therefore, there are five people working upstairs at any given time."

Seishiro studied the schedule. It was neatly written and coherently laid out, with names, times and the person you were expected to pass labelled clearly.

He would have to go upstairs in twenty-four minutes, he noted, and set an alarm on his watch.

The first half-hour went smoothly, although they still hadn't quite figured out how to dig into the ice without ripping the duct tape from the shovel. Seishiro spent his first six minutes with Umeko, Hitomi, Keiji and Ryousei, in the next Ryousei left and Amaya showed up.

At that point, he had somewhat given up on observing who had come up at what time, allowing Etsuko to pop up unnoticed behind him in his final six minutes and drop a little chunk of ice on his neck.

He had jumped up, about to wield a shovel in self-defence, only to sigh exasperatedly at Etsuko's cackling.

"Don't waste water," sighed Komi, smacking the comedian upside the head as she walked past.

Etsuko pouted and got back to work.

"Oh my god-!" Katsumi barged through the doors of the cafeteria, yelling in a panic.

"What," shouted Amaya, looking as if she were ready to defend against a potential assailant.

"Yuji-kun is dead," she shrieked hysterically.

 _Yuji was...dead?_

...

Seishiro paused, then looked at the very alive-looking Yuji seated across from him at the long table, whose face mirrored his own surprised expression.

"Wait, what?" The supposedly dead Yuji asked, somewhat baffled.

Amaya leapt onto the table and brandished a plate, looking ready to throw it at him. "Who are you, impostor?"

Yuji yelled in surprise and toppled off his chair with a crash.

"Wait, you never passed me," mentioned Katsumi.

Yuji winced. "Crap, I forgot."

"Alright, if we could stick to the schedule then everything would run smoothly," said Keiji. "Let's try and follow that from now on, yes?"

They didn't follow that at all. Each transition was accompanied by accusing glares and mild panic, as the schedule soon became a loose guideline that people worked their way around.

Seishiro swore he heard Katsuo justifying his extreme earliness with an 'if everyone is late, I should balance that out by being early'.

 _Impeccable logic,_ he thought, although he was also fairly sure that Katsuo had done it purposely just to screw with them.

By the second cycle, there was a good-sized crater in the middle of the hot spring. While he was gone, somebody had decided to use the sword and shovel like a chisel and hammer, which was supposedly safer than repeatedly breaking and mending the shoddy ice pick.

Another half hour passed.

Tedious and uneventful.

At the third cycle, something finally broke. Somebody had found another shovel, but the head of the first had fallen off the handle.

Keiji had instructed Seishiro to superglue it back together, leaving the pyrotechnician to rifle through dozens of classroom drawers to find a tiny tube.

Barely minutes after he had made the repair and left it leaning against a wall in the hot spring, an oblivious Ryousei had picked it up, cleanly sliding the handle off the shovel once more.

The sailor stared at the decapitated shovel blankly before panic set in. "I'm really sorry-!"

"I'll fix that," sighed Seishiro exasperatedly. "Again."

"Alone?" Keiji inquired quizzically. They were only four, as Umeko had left to retrieve the lighter from her room.

"We'll just leave three people here," he replied simply. "I'm literally walking ten metres down the hall. And besides, I have a big wooden stick to bash any potential attackers with." Seishiro tapped the shovel's handle approvingly.

Keiji sighed. "Against my better judgement I'll say yes to that, just know that if you die I'll accept full responsibility for that."

"Right," said Seishiro, not too keen on discussing his own potential murder.

He decided to leave the fixed shovel in the furthest classroom lest it be disturbed again, and returned to his place without further ado.

Ryousei was replaced with Amaya, with still no sign of Umeko. Later, Naoki had arrived, rounding out the number to five again.

"Do you think...Aihara noticed her time upstairs was finished...and decided not to come back?" Hitomi wondered.

"I wouldn't put it past her," considered Keiji, "since about one minute ago she was supposed to head downstairs anyway."

"I didn't pass her like I was supposed to," added Naoki uneasily. "Maybe we should go down and check-"

"Yes," said Hitomi abruptly.

Keiji nodded. "Alright, you two-"

"Wait," said Seishiro. "Can you also get some stuff while you're at it?"

"Can we all just stop interrupting each other?" Amaya complained.

Seishiro ignored her. "Last I checked there was a pair of shears in the greenhouse and one of those poles you use to hang up washing in the laundry. If you could get those, that'd be great, but don't worry if you can't find them."

"Right," said Naoki slowly, most likely trying to comprehend what the laundry pole was. Seishiro's explanation had been rather shoddy, in hindsight.

Hitomi left wordlessly, followed by Naoki, through their respective change rooms. The heavy doors clicked shut.

"Hey," said Amaya, "you don't think that Aihara is...you know...?"

Seishiro dislodged a piece of ice using his foot, uncomfortable. "Let's hope not."

"I'm sure everything will be alright," assured Keiji.

The three of them returned to their task, working at a considerably slower pace. After a while of monotonous activity, their quiet stupor was slowly invaded by a irregular vibration that shook the floor.

"Guys, what is that?" Seishiro asked, uneasily stepping away from the hot spring. He rested the working shovel on the tiled floor, and wasn't surprised to hear it rattling.

"Jeez, it's like we're in an airplane," muttered Amaya.

Keiji considered it for a moment. "It's probably the incinerator," he suggested. "It's old and clunky enough to make this amount of noise if switched on."

"And why would anybody need the incinerator?" Amaya accused.

Seishiro raised an eyebrow. "Warmth? I'm more concerned as to why somebody randomly decided to go upstairs and turn it on."

Keiji seemed to weigh the possibilities in his mind. "It most likely is a mundane reason, and I suggest we investigate. However, simultaneously it may also be a distraction to lure us away from the hot spring. Therefore, it'd be a good idea to take anything that could be used as a weapon with us."

Seishiro was reminded of the first trial, and the distraction used to steal Amaya's sword. It was clear that she had thought of it, too.

"That's just the shovel and the sword, right?" She confirmed.

"That's right," nodded Keiji.

They split off to leave through the change rooms, Seishiro following behind Keiji's taller figure, clutching the shovel in his hands tighter.

But nothing could prepare him for what was ahead.

"What the-"

At the other end of the corridor, just ahead of the stairs and next to a heater, was a figure slumped in a trail of blood. Even from such a distance, the black clothing and bloodstained mauve hair made it apparent that the body was that of **Aihara Umeko** , the **Super High School Level Mortician**.

Seishiro's scream died in his throat and he gripped the shovel so hard his knuckles were white. Keiji clapped a hand over his own mouth, eyes wide in shock.

Beside them, the girls' change room door slammed open and a frantic Amaya stumbled out. "Guys, I found-!" Her eyes fixated on the sight at the end of the corridor, her sentence cut short by her own horrified shout.

The speakers suddenly blared to life, and it was a shock that Seishiro didn't drop the shovel out of surprise. Meanwhile, Amaya's sword clattered to the floor noisily.

"Ding Dong! A body has been discovered! The investigation period shall now begin, and a Monokuma File has been added to your ElectroIDs. When the investigation period is over, the class trial will commence. Good luck, students!"

 _Not again, not again-!_

With a sudden loud whirring, like a great engine coming to life, the ducted heating turned on and the heaters returned to their normal temperature, sending a blast of burning hot air towards the trio. Seishiro attempted to rip off his coat before he overheated, while simultaneously absorbing the heat into his numb fingers. He didn't know if they were numb from cold or fear, and didn't want to find out.

In a big, thundering mass, the other students pushed each other up the stairwell, some with half-taken off coats and jackets. Etsuko at the head of the group was the first to lay eyes on the corpse, and with a shout nearly toppled backwards down the stairs.

Umeko's body had half-blocked the width of the corridor, and the group unanimously balked at the thought of crossing over her.

Takehiko was the first to make a move, pushing forward and stepping across the side of the hallway free from blood. He was joined by Hitomi, dragging the pair of shears that Seishiro had asked of her, then Etsuko, leaving ample room for everyone else to crowd around the body.

"I'm gonna be sick," gasped Yuji, looking ready to run back down the stairs.

"Why are you two next to weapons?!" Katsumi shouted suddenly, pointing a finger at Seishiro and Amaya in turn, glaring at the dropped shovel and sword.

"It's alright, it's alright," assured Keiji. "This was for the hot spring, I can testify."

The composer still didn't look convinced.

"Yeah, okay," said Etsuko suddenly, but there was a tremble in her voice. "Let's just start investigating, okay?"

It looked like Komi and Ryousei had already started doing so, as neither were in sight and Seishiro swore he saw the cheerleader head off towards a nearby classroom.

Takehiko had just crouched down next to the body when a sudden, strangled scream came from a classroom on Seishiro's left.

"Fujiwara-chan-!" Amaya shouted, half-jumping over the pool of blood in her panic.

The throng of students stumbled towards the sound of the scream, and Seishiro found himself in the back, unable to see what was going on. The people at the front entered the furthest classroom to the right of the stairs, and Seishiro was still craning his neck to see when-

"Ding Dong! A body has been discovered! The investigation period shall now begin, and a Monokuma File has been added to your ElectroIDs. When the investigation period is over, the class trial will commence. Good luck, students!"

The exact same body discovery announcement played again as a sense of dread began twisting at his stomach.

 _Impossible..._

The students ahead of him cleared and Seishiro could finally get a view of what exactly it was that had everyone in a panic - or rather, who.

The answer was almost immediately clear. A small figure facedown on the classroom floor, blood soaking the back of his head, was **Hideaki Ryousei** , the **Super High School Level Sailor**.

Two murders. Two classmates gone. Upon the discovery of Umeko's body, Seishiro still had hope that it had been a murder out of necessity, a sacrifice to save them.

But now, he was sure that this was the furthest thing from a sacrifice that there could .

The throng of students stumbled towards the sound of the scream, and Seishiro found himself in the back, unable to see what was going on. The people at the front entered the furthest classroom to the right of the stairs, and Seishiro was still craning his neck to see when-

"Ding Dong! A body has been discovered! The investigation period shall now begin, and a Monokuma File has been added to your ElectroIDs. When the investigation period is over, the class trial will commence. Good luck, students!"

The exact same body discovery announcement played again as a sense of dread began twisting at his stomach.

 _Impossible..._

The students ahead of him cleared and Seishiro could finally get a view of what exactly it was that had everyone in a panic - or rather, who.

The answer was almost immediately clear. A small figure facedown on the classroom floor, blood soaking the back of his head, was **Hideaki Ryousei** , the **Super High School Level Sailor**.

Two murders. Two classmates gone. Upon the discovery of Umeko's body, Seishiro still had hope that it had been a murder out of necessity, a sacrifice to save them.

But now, he was sure that this was the furthest thing from a sacrifice that there could be.


	15. 2-4: Deadly Life (Investigation)

Misaki unleashed a barrage of expletives, looking as if she would murder the next person who so dared to approach her. With both Umeko and Ryousei dead, her rage was hardly uncalled for.

"I told you it was one of them," shouted Katsumi, still adamant that Seishiro and Amaya were the culprits. To be fair, they were first at the crime scene and, of course, holding weapons. "And besides, what else do we have? Two people are dead, hell, it could've been both of them!"

"Why are you making such groundless accusations?" Takehiko spat.

"B-because the person whose talent we needed the most is dead, she's actually dead, and there's two bodies and all of our lives are at stake here and I don't even know where to start-!" Katsumi stammered hysterically.

The sniper stared her down. "Sometimes I feel like you're the reason why our investigations and trials are hard," he said. "All you do is stand there, being nothing but pessimistic. You don't have anything helpful to offer. The truth is that you're too scared to do anything. So maybe this time, instead of crying and demanding pity, you could actually make yourself useful."

Something, like a primal fear, spread across Katsumi's face before Misaki pulled her backwards, the makeup artist forcibly wedging herself between the two.

"Stop yelling at her," she hissed, poised like she was about to attack him. "You're just a smug, condescending, know-it-all asshole who has to belittle everyone else to make yourself feel validated. Isn't that right? It's like you're trying to be all badass and superior, but you're just a bully. Isn't. That. Right?!" Misaki spat the last three words like some foul taste had just entered her mouth.

This time, Keiji intervened before Takehiko could hurl another volley of insults at her. "Please, stop fighting. We can sort this out another time, when our lives aren't on the line. For now, let's get onto investigating - and I'd suggest that the both of you keep away from each other."

Takehiko held his ground while Misaki turned to walk away. "Go to hell," she muttered angrily, holding up a middle finger behind her.

"Stop," warned Keiji, reaching out to grab her arm.

Thankfully, before the situation could devolve into a full-on fight, the intercom started up again.

"Phew, is it getting hot in here or is it just me?" Monokuma cackled. "Anyway, one of our dear darling friends here committed the utterly terrible atrocity that is murder - twice!"

"So you're saying that one person is the culprit?" Komi asked, stone-faced. She still looked shaken from being the first to discover Ryousei's body, but her voice showed none of her bedraggled appearance.

"Oopsie-daisy, I slipped up! Upupupu!" Monokuma singsonged. "Well, not really, given that even if there were two culprits I'd only let one graduate. Hell, it's meant to be a rule, but I think I forgot to add it. Oh well - just let good ol' Monokuma handle the technical things while you all get into the wonderful hands-on murder investigation stuff!" The intercom shut off cleanly.

Misaki and Takehiko were glowering at each other slightly less now, which was good.

Katsuo surveyed the room. "So, are we all to stand here and stare blankly at each other? Because, for those slower-witted ones present, we've just lost arguably the most competent person out of us miserable lot," he said, gesturing Umeko on the floor.

"You're saying you only valued her for her talent?" Naoki accused. "Jeez, and I thought you cared..."

Before the playwright could respond, everyone's ElectroIDs beeped in unison, most likely even those of the two dead students. The Rules tab flashed.

 **11\. Upon one student committing murder, no other students may commit murder until the trial has finished.**

"Alright," said Komi finally. "Now that that's all over and done with, can we please just start investigating?"

"Yeah, okay, we get it," grumbled Yuji, still pale. "Seishiro-kun, let's go."

"Why me?" Seishiro asked, puzzled.

Yuji shrugged. "Because you're smart to make up for my lack of common sense. And following you around makes me feel like I'm actually doing something productive."

Seishiro shot him a look. "Seriously? This is not the time for jokes, Yuji-kun."

"Sorry, I just...trying to take the edge off, you know? Where to now?"

"Bodies, I suppose," he sighed, hating the fact that he would have to go poking around at his own friends' corpses. Takehiko was already crouched next to Umeko, so Seishiro decided to investigate Ryousei's body in the classroom. It turned out that Hitomi was there, inspecting the back of Ryousei's head.

"Dude, you didn't even check the Monokuma File," reminded Yuji, opening his. Seishiro was too lazy to find which pocket of which jacket he had put his in, so he looked on with the barista, eyes scanning over the document.

 **The victim is Hideaki Ryousei, the Super High School Level Sailor.**

 **The body was discovered in classroom 2-1.**

 **The time of death falls between 11:00 a.m. and 11:21 a.m.**

 **External wounds are a fractured skull and torn skin at the back of the head. Death was caused by blunt force trauma to the brain.**

"Huh, this one says the cause of death," mentioned Yuji.

"It seems...to be correct," said Hitomi from the floor.

"And there's a much shorter period of time that the deaths could've occurred in," added Seishiro.

"Look at...Aihara's," instructed the astrologer.

Yuji was doing just that as the two pored over the small device.

 **The victim is Aihara Umeko, the Super High School Level Mortician.**

 **The body was discovered in the second floor hallway.**

 **The time of death falls between 11:00 a.m. and 11:22 a.m.**

 **External wounds are a fractured skull and horizontal cut to the back of the head. There appear to be signs of asphyxiation on the neck area. There are also bruises to the arms and legs.**

Seishiro was snapped out of his concentration by Hitomi's voice. "Suffice to say...this shovel is suspicious."

To the blonde's right was the same shovel that Seishiro had superglued back together not fifteen minutes ago, except it was tipped on its side and the metal part was spattered in blood.

"Holy crap, you think they...?" Yuji made a chopping motion with his arms, miming holding the shovel.

"Wait, wasn't there a horizontal cut in the back of Aihara's head? This was probably the cause," deduced Seishiro. "It'd be easy to pull something like that with such a heavy weapon."

"Correct," mused Hitomi.

"Everyone, try and remember where this was," instructed Seishiro. "I'm gonna pick it up and model how it could've been used."

The two nodded in sync, but as Seishiro reached for the handle, a scraping noise echoed through the classroom and once again, the wooden and metal sections slid apart from each other.

The bloodied metal head of the shovel clunked against the floor. Seishiro stared at it in surprise. The glue should've dried much earlier than this, and using only the metal part of the shovel would've been inconvenient as a weapon.

"You...glued that together," mentioned Hitomi, trying to make sense of it.

Seishiro looked at the end of the handle and the inside of the head where the handle slotted in, and found hardened tendrils of glue. It was certain from the way that the substance has dried - the two halves had been separated before it had dried. The glue in the head was mixed with a little blood, while the handle was completely clean.

"The culprit pulled the two sections apart while the glue was still wet," concluded Seishiro. "Look at it yourself."

Hitomi ignored him, instead looking at the head of the shovel and then the blood matting Ryousei's blonde hair. "The blood...is wet," she said.

Yuji looked up from his inspection of the handle. "So the murder happened very recently?"

Seishiro furrowed his brow. "Given that both Hideaki's blood and the blood on the shovel haven't dried yet, it seems that way. I suppose the shovel most likely killed both of them, but I'm absolutely certain that Aihara was killed with it, so if her blood is still wet then the murders happened very, very recently."

He stepped out of the classroom to look at Umeko's body. Much to his surprise, her blood was hard and crusted when he ran a finger over it.

Takehiko looked up. "Something's telling me you have an idea," he said plainly.

"Was this blood wet when you started investigating?"

The sniper considered it. "No." He scrunched up his face at Seishiro's confused expression. "What, you can't expect blood to stay wet forever. It dries pretty quickly."

Seishiro shook his head. "Hideaki's blood and the blood on the shovel - which I think is the murder weapon - is still wet."

Takehiko gave an odd look. "That probably means that Hideaki was killed much later-"

"What murder weapon?" A female voice yelled from down the hall, and it took a moment to register it as Etsuko's. "We have the murder weapon," she said, gesturing at Amaya who was holding a bloody iron, its cord dragging behind.

"I was gonna show you that, but then we discovered the body," the capoeirista mentioned.

"There's a bloody shovel in the classroom by Hideaki," said Seishiro.

Confusion flashed briefly on Etsuko's face.

"You are aware that two seperate murders could involve two seperate weapons?" Takehiko asked, eyebrows raised. "Think," he added, rapping his knuckles against his skull.

"Well, sorry," said Amaya in a tone that made it clear she wasn't.

Yuji stumbled out of the classroom, followed by Hitomi. "Hey, what's going on?"

"We'll figure that out in the trial," said Takehiko.

"Okay..." said Yuji uneasily, his question unanswered. "But for now, can we all agree that Aihara's been moved?" He pointed to a bloodstain and a trail of blood leading from just outside the classroom to where Umeko's body was now. "And look in there."

Seishiro complied, inspecting the half-dried puddle of blood by the door. Something in it caught his eye, glinting in the light - a handful of small silver beads.

"I think they're from her fascinator," said Yuji from behind him.

"They are," shouted Takehiko from even further back. "The string holding them on is snapped. It probably broke from the impact of the shovel."

Amaya raised an eyebrow. "How do you know it was the shovel?"

"Horizontal cut here," said Takehiko, gesturing on his own neck. "The blood is on the pointy tip of the iron, so it would've made something like a puncture wound, but extreme."

Seishiro looked at the corners of the corridor leading to the classrooms, another glint catching his eye. Close to the puddle of blood with the beads, but not quite touching it, was a little lighter, pristine in its condition. He felt a pang of something indescribably forlorn when he recognised it as the one she had shown him when they talked in her room mere days earlier.

Seishiro sighed, returning to the group. "I know that she was killed while going upstairs and trying to return to us," he concluded.

"What?" Yuji didn't seem like he understood.

"She went downstairs to get that lighter, the one that's next to the bloodstain there."

"That helps us narrow down the time of death," concluded Amaya, "and explains why she never came back."

The heat radiated off the heater Umeko's body was adjacent to. Silence, filled with personal thought, reigned. Seishiro was trying to wrap his head around the strange pattern of dried and wet blood, when Etsuko's voice jolted him.

"Guys, guys! We know the shovel was used to hit Umeko and make that wound there, but who says it was the cause of death? Monokuma certainly didn't!"

"What?" Seishiro questioned at her sudden yelling.

"The File says that there's signs of asphyxiation plus bruises. What if she was strangled and got those bruises in a scuffle, and that shovel is just a red herring like the knife was in the last trial?" There was a passion in Etsuko's eyes, and she seemed confident in her theory. Then again, she was always confident.

Takehiko rolled up Umeko's sleeves to have a better look. "So you're saying that she was asphyxiated, then hit with the shovel post-mortem?"

"It's possible," she confirmed.

Seishiro nodded. "Well then...did you guys find anything else important?"

"Oh yeah," said Amaya abruptly, "that vibration we felt was actually the incinerator, but there was absolutely nothing in there. Kusuhara-kun and I checked."

"Oh...wait, where is he?" Seishiro asked.

Suddenly the intercom blared a low, beeping noise that had Seishiro's head rattling. An female voice, most likely a speech synthesiser, boomed over the speakers.

"Attention. Attention. Kusuhara Naoki is trespassing in the girls' change room. Attention. Attention. Kusuhara Naoki is trespassing in-"

And so it repeated, again and again. "Well, there he is," muttered Seishiro.

There came a muffled "get out!" from the change room doors, and the announcement abruptly stopped mid-sentence as Komi shoved a yelling Naoki out through the heavy door.

"Oh, thank god," grumbled Yuji, taking his hands away from his ears. "Any more and I'd have gone deaf."

"What the heck?" The discus thrower stumbled backwards out into the corridor. "I was investigating that dent in the locker, not perving on anyone! Hey, Monokuma, shut it off!"

"Nnnope," said Monokuma cheerfully. "It's not like it's killing anyone! Just think of it as a little extra challenge to make it more fun, upupupupu!"

"This is ridiculous," muttered Komi. "And there wasn't much to investigate in the first place, since _they_ took the evidence with them!" She gestured at Amaya and Etsuko, who both smiled sheepishly.

Seishiro took a while to comprehend what just happened. "Wait, a dent?"

"It was by the iron we found in the girls' change room," explained Etsuko. "We think it's important since the wrong gender alarms didn't go off like they did just then."

"Alright, so let's try and collate what we have so far so we can get a better idea of things," suggested Seishiro. "The dry and wet blood - which I still need time to think through - the shovel and iron-"

"Ding Dong Bing Bong! The investigation period is now over, and the class trial will begin shortly. Please make your way to the trial room, pronto!" The announcement suddenly played over the speakers, cutting him off.

Etsuko frowned. "Jeez, I never feel like we have enough time to work through these investigations. But hey, we got through one trial, so we can get through this one!"

Komi pursed her lips. "Hm, maybe. But simply hoping is less effective than taking action, I've found. Let's see if we can properly take on this case in the trial."

Seishiro paused, then ran towards the classroom and snatched up the lighter and shovel, noticing that Amaya was taking the iron with her.

Passing by the laundry and infirmary, the group were the last to arrive at the towering gates to the trial room. Some acknowledged their peers in hushed tones, as if afraid of breaking the fragile, reverent silence that had settled over them. As if sensing their presence, the heavy doors slid open to reveal the elevator, twelve students crowding in.

Somebody had taken not one, but two innocent lives that day. They chose to cause greater, irreparable damage to everyone else, and for what sake? The tension in the elevator was palpable, each student carefully spacing themselves as far from the others as possible, refusing to make eye contact.

Hideaki Ryousei and Aihara Umeko, two souls that had never truly wronged anyone. Seishiro knew that he was standing in the same space as somebody who had enough malicious intent to take both of their lives, but there was the fear, the uncertainty that hung in the air as to whom it was.

Briefly he reflected on the chats he had with Umeko days ago, softly discussing their philosophies, and the time after the first motive when Ryousei had instilled a warm hope within him. He wondered if he could have prevented this. Then he shook away the thought, unwilling to dwell on 'what if's.

Because in that moment, only one thing was certain.

By trial's end, somebody would die.


	16. 2-5: Deadly Life (Trial)

The elevator dinged, signalling the end of its long descent. The students stumbled out of the claustrophobic elevator onto the plush carpet of the trial room, staring down the small form of Monokuma, seated at the head of the circle of stands.

They hadn't seen him in person (in bear?) for a while, which made it easier to pretend that everything was okay. Now that they were looking at the tyrannical 'headmaster' responsible for all this chaos, the realisation that their friends were truly dead began to set in further. Feet dragged along the floor and shoes clacked on wood as the twelve took their spots in the trial room.

Seishiro paused, leaning the broken shovel against the side of his stand before taking his place.

This time, there were three new stands in place. Ryousei's and Umeko's faces were crossed out by the same blood-coloured X as Yoshikazu's, but Shigeko's was different from them. Hers was crossed out with a knife and fork, a nod to her talent and most likely to distinguish her as having been executed instead of murdered.

Monokuma produced a gavel out of nowhere, banging it on his stand to draw attention. "Come one, come all, and welcome back to the Class Trial! Ooh, I can just feel the despair radiating off each and every one of you-! Now, this is where you get to try and figure out the culprit of this thrilling double murder! When you think you've got it down pat, I'll open up the voting! If you get the blackened right, they'll receive an extra-special execution, and if you don't then that honour goes to the rest of you!"

"Right," said Komi. "Didn't you say this last time?"

"Ehh, so what if I did? You've all got an amnesia problem plus the memory of a goldfish, so I'm just offering a friendly reminder!"

Misaki bristled at the insult.

"Is no one else going to give me a snappy response?" Monokuma asked, looking around the room. "Well, if not, then let's get this party started! Let the trial begin!"

"Alright, so where do we start?" Etsuko asked confidently. "Should we work out the specifics of the murders first, like we did last trial?"

"Wait," said Keiji. "I've been thinking, and the timeframe of the murder seems to be rather impossible."

Yuji whipped out his ElectroID. "Well, the Monokuma file said it happened between 11:00 and 11:22, which is when we discovered the body. That's twenty-two minutes max, which is probably enough, right?"

"Wrong," said Seishiro suddenly. "We sent Kusuhara-san and Ichisada-san downstairs at, if I remember correctly, around 11:18." He looked to Keiji for confirmation, who gave it.

"Correct. Both of them should have walked down the corridor to the stairwell, passing by the exact spot where the bodies were discovered. What do you have to say about that?"

Naoki and Hitomi looked at each other, silently indicating for the other to speak first.

"We saw...nothing," said the astrologer.

"Yeah," agreed Naoki. "We weren't exactly looking around purposefully, but nothing was apparently out of the ordinary."

"Well, that makes both of you very suspicious," said Katsuo in a mock-pleasant tone. "Last I checked, there was a rather conspicuous pool of blood in the corridor leading to the classrooms on your left. How could neither of you have noticed that?"

Takehiko tapped his fingers on the wooden stand. "Clearly, the bodies were already there, most likely concealed somewhere, since nobody could commit two murders in four minutes. You would have no reason to check in the classroom where Hideaki's body was, but Aihara's was most likely hidden. Where, and how, is the question, given that her body showed no signs of being moved other than between the place of death and the corridor where we found it."

"Wait," interjected Hitomi. "I noticed a classroom door...was opened outwards...so that it blocked some of the corridor."

Etsuko suddenly spoke up. "Hang on, don't the classroom doors only open inward?"

"There's a locking mechanism on the bottom. If you undo that, the door swings both ways," explained Keiji.

"Wait, wait, can we take this conversation back a bit?" Katsumi asked. "Uh, M-Mitsukuri-san, you said something about Aihara having been moved?" The composer still seemed a bit fearful of him, after his earlier outburst at her.

Takehiko nodded. "Right, you're good for something, at least. When we were investigating upstairs, Shima-san noticed that there was a pool of blood in the hallway outside the classroom. In it were some small silver beads, which we concluded fell off her fascinator, which broke when she was hit in the head."

"You mean she died in the corridor, and the classroom door was used to block her body from sight?" Amaya asked.

"Seems like it," agreed Etsuko.

"So you're saying that you two walked directly past two dead people, and didn't notice a thing?" Misaki accused.

Naoki opened his mouth to defend himself when Keiji spoke instead. "They were together at that point, that makes their alibi solid."

"Right, but that still doesn't help us narrow down when they were killed, or in what order," said Naoki.

"But this will." Keiji produced a handful of slightly crinkled white pages, briskly sorting through them. "According to the timetable, Hideaki's scheduled block directly precedes Aihara's."

"Meaning that he would move in the corridor six minutes before her," confirmed Etsuko.

Keiji continued to examine the schedule with scrutiny. "If we're presuming that they were killed during the transition period, then Hideaki was killed at 11:12 and Aihara at 11:18."

"But that thing with the lighter," prompted Amaya. "We left her on her own...oh, crap."

"Now, let's not wallow in self-pity and 'if only' statements," said Katsuo, sighing. "But, I am curious as to what's this 'thing with the lighter' you mentioned."

Keiji stiffened, posture cramping up. "I take full responsibility for this...but I allowed Aihara to leave on her own to fetch a lighter she had in her room. I last saw her at around 11:08, which at least helps us narrow down the time given in the Monokuma File. However, it also proves that she could have been killed at any time in those fourteen minutes remaining."

"So it'd be more useful to find out what time Hideaki was killed, right?" Misaki pondered.

He nodded. "Hideaki went downstairs at exactly his scheduled time, which Ichisada-chan and Nishimura-kun can testify to, alongside myself. He would have had a few moments alone while walking downstairs...or, he could have been targeted by the person he was intended to pass by."

"Indeed that seems likely," agreed Katsuo, "as it would be the two of them alone at that moment. However, it would also be an incredibly stupid move, as we have written proof of who should be alone with whom."

"Cut the crap," said Takehiko bluntly. "Who is it? We have a suspect to investigate now."

"It's me," groaned Amaya, raising her hand. "Again."

"Correct," said Keiji neutrally. "What do you have to say about that?"

"Crap- no, there's nothing I can say that makes me any less suspicious, but here's my side of the story anyway," she replied, painfully aware of her situation. "Before my scheduled time, I was screwing around with Watanabe-chan and Fujiwara-chan."

"In my room," added Etsuko quickly.

"I wasn't really keeping track of things, and didn't notice that I missed the time until Fujiwara-chan pointed it out to me. I then ran upstairs, meeting up with you guys. I was in a hurry, so even if there was something weird going on I didn't notice."

"She was...completely inconspicuous when...we met up," added Hitomi.

Misaki looked her up and down, as if the overbearing scrutiny of her gaze could force a confession. "Was the classroom door on your right opened?"

"I don't know," the capoeirista replied slowly, worry evident in her voice.

"Yikes," said Yuji for no apparent reason.

"Wait-!" Etsuko shouted dramatically. "I'll save you, Shitori-chan!"

Amaya shot a brief, panicked look at the comedian.

"When we noticed she was late, it was 11:14, two minutes past the scheduled time. What time did she arrive upstairs?" Etsuko asked, directing the question at either Seishiro, Keiji or Hitomi.

Realisation dawned on Keiji. "I believe within the same minute...meaning that if it took her less than a minute to run upstairs, she had no excess time to commit murder."

"I can confirm the 11:14 thing," agreed Komi.

"Wait," said the previously quiet Katsumi suddenly. "Do we know for certain that Hideaki was killed on his way to the cafeteria?"

"It's the most likely possibility," replied Misaki. "Since he never arrived in the cafeteria like he was meant to."

Yuji looked like he was doing mental maths quietly. "So we're certain that Hideaki was killed on his way down the corridor, giving us a good estimate of time for that murder. But now we gotta figure out when Aihara was murdered in relation to Hideaki, so we can check out alibis for both times."

"I have an idea, but the stuff I discovered seems to contradict itself..." said Seishiro uneasily.

"Go for it," encouraged Etsuko.

"Alright, so when we were up there investigating, Hideaki's blood was wet while Aihara's was dry."

Takehiko nodded. "That seemed to prove that Hideaki was killed very recently, and Aihara before him, but all of your accounts seem to prove that he was killed at 11:12, ten minutes before we discovered the bodies. Blood left in the open for ten minutes will dry, no doubt about it."

"I also discovered Aihara's lighter in the spot where she died, meaning that she was on her way back upstairs when she was killed," continued Seishiro. "If she left at 11:08, it would take her a few minutes to find the lighter and return, making her journey up the stairs coincide with the time Hideaki would have been killed."

"Oh, hang on-!" Katsumi yelled suddenly. "What if Aihara killed Hideaki and then, I don't know, killed herself?"

"That makes literally no sense," replied Komi, refusing to entertain the notion. "The blood dilemma proves that Hideaki was killed after Aihara. And did you even look at the Monokuma File? There's no way you could hit yourself in the head hard enough to crack your own skull."

"Knowing me, I'd probably find a way to do that by accident," grumbled Yuji. "Anyway, I do have an idea...Seishiro-kun, you said that Aihara would've gone upstairs at the point when Hideaki was killed, so what if one of them witnessed the other's death by accident?"

"That's definitely possible," agreed Seishiro, "but that still doesn't explain why one's blood is dried and the other's isn't."

Etsuko put a finger to her chin. "And on Aihara's body there seems to be signs of a struggle, which means it would've taken longer for her to die..."

"What struggle?" Katsumi asked.

"Hang on, can we still figure out the impossible blood thing?" Seishiro pressed.

Misaki glared at him. "Why are you so hung up on the blood?"

"What the heck is even going on?" Naoki grumbled.

"Stop talking...over each other," said Hitomi, but her soft words went unheard.

"Wait, everybody stop," shouted Keiji, bringing attention to him. "Everybody is talking at once, we're getting louder and louder, and nobody is solving anything. Let's all focus our efforts on trying to figure out exactly how the murder happened, bit by bit, okay?"

"Sorry," winced Misaki.

"That's alright. Now, shall we begin with the murder weapons? It looks like you two are holding them," he said, motioning at Seishiro and Amaya.

Amaya fiddled with the iron's cord, jerking her chin at Seishiro to indicate that she wanted him to speak first. He picked up the shovel, holding the two parts together.

"Uh, I think this shovel was used to kill Aihara, since it matches up with the cut on the back of her head," he began. "But the issue with it is that...well, it's kinda broken." He pulled the bloodied metal part off the wooden handle to demonstrate.

"Do you think it broke on impact?" Katsumi wondered.

Seishiro shook his head. "It was already broken when we were harvesting the ice. I went to glue it back together, but given the pattern of dried glue on the inside, somebody pulled it apart before it could adhere. That, combined with the handle being completely spotless, seems to point at only this metal part being using to kill her."

"But how would you do that?" Naoki wondered. "There's not a lot of room to hold just the metal part while also hitting someone with it hard enough to fracture their skull. I guess it's possible, but way less efficient than the entire shovel."

"She might also not have been killed with that," added Etsuko. "The Monokuma File also indicates bruises and signs of asphyxiation, meaning that she could've been strangled and tried to fight back against her attacker."

"Strangled with what?" Misaki asked uneasily.

Amaya swung the cord of the iron over her stand, then pulled it taut and inspected the insulated covering. "With this. We're mostly sure that this iron was used to kill Hideaki, since his wound doesn't seem to match up to the shovel and the plastic is cracked where the blood is. But here, on the cord, if you look closely a bit of the paint is rubbed off."

"So that, combined with the bruising, seems to indicate that both the shovel and the cord are equally likely to have been used as the murder weapon," mused Keiji.

"Oh, but I beg to differ," said Katsuo, learning over his stand. "Why would there be bruising, indicating signs of a struggle, if death was instantaneous when caused by blunt force trauma? That seems to point me in the direction of asphyxiation being the cause of death."

"But if you think about it, asphyxiation is equally as improbable, given the time frame of the murder," countered Seishiro. "We know that the entire thing - murders, tampering with evidence and the crime scene - happened between 11:08 and 11:22. That's fourteen minutes. If Aihara struggled and fought back while being strangled, that would've taken much longer than just striking her with the shovel."

Etsuko frowned. "Yeah, that makes sense, I still don't get how that was pulled off in such a short span of time, but you're both talking about what's 'likely' to have happened. Basically, there's no actual concrete proof of either possibility, only assumptions we can make."

"I have something for the shovel theory, but I'm pretty sure one of you is immediately gonna go 'nooo, that's wrong' and launch into a tirade about how scientifically inaccurate I am," said Takehiko, seemingly uninterested.

Etsuko rolled her eyes. "Whatever, just say it. Fire away!"

"Did you just make a pun?" Naoki asked under his breath, incredulously. "People are literally dead-"

"What pun- oh, yikes, that wasn't actually meant to be one-"

"Stop getting sidetracked," yelled Takehiko. "At this point I'm inclined to believe you all have an attention span of about three milliseconds. Back to what I was going to say - I looked at the bruises on Aihara's body, and judging by their colour they actually look like they've been there for a while already, a day at the minimum."

"Do dead bodies even bruise?" Amaya wondered. "I mean, the blood stops flowing, so-"

"Don't know, doesn't matter, I'm not a scientist, the sniper dismissed. "Anyway, the bruises weren't caused in a struggle before death. Pass me the iron," he instructed.

Amaya made a move to toss the weapon across the trial room.

Takehiko suddenly ducked behind his stand. "Don't do that, unless you want me to become this case's third victim."

"I wouldn't be adverse to it," mumbled Misaki.

"Sorry," said Amaya, sheepishly passing it over to him.

 _Something itched at the back of Seishiro's mind._

Takehiko inspected the cord. "See, this damage to the covering isn't as severe as it would've needed to be in order to choke somebody to death."

"Gimme that," called Naoki. "I don't mean to be this distrustful, but can we take your words at face value or not?"

Takehiko passed the iron back around, shrugging.

"He was right...about the bruises...not being recent," confirmed Hitomi. "I was...looking, as well."

Naoki held the cord taut, before looking down and suddenly remarking: "I've realised that I have literally no idea what an iron's cord is supposed to look like after it's been used to strangle someone, so I can't prove anything."

"Use your brain," grumbled Takehiko.

"Whatever," said Yuji. "If the bruises and the cord are accounted for, then the time frame seems to indicate the shovel thing as the more likely course of action. We're just gonna roll with that, yeah?"

"So Aihara was killed with the head of the shovel, and Hideaki with the iron," concluded Seishiro.

"Now we gotta work out the specifics, I guess," said Naoki. "Probably what order they were killed in, since that'll help us if we cross-check it with the schedule."

Seishiro nodded. "Okay. So far we're pretty sure that Hideaki was killed on his way downstairs, after he left at his scheduled time, right?"

Etsuko considered it for a bit. "Yeah, and by looking at the schedule, the killer would be able to know the exact time in which he would be in the hall. However, they'd have to rely on the person Hideaki was required to pass not being there."

"Is it a bit much for a stroke of luck?" Misaki wondered. "Else, they could've just expected the other person - Shitori-chan - to be downstairs and on their way up. Then, it'd be possible to drag Hideaki out of sight and sound in case she passed by."

Seishiro sighed. "Yeah, that sounds like a possibility. Since we know that Aihara was killed while going upstairs, after acquiring the lighter. At 11:08, she was sent downstairs...meaning that she left four minutes before Hideaki was in the corridor. We know she wasn't killed then, because she had the lighter on her person. Therefore, she was most likely killed on the way back to the hot spring, since it'd likely take four minutes for her to go downstairs, find the lighter and return."

"Well, according to that, logic dictates that Hideaki was killed first, and presumably Aihara was killed due to being a witness to that first act," mentioned Katsuo. "That means that they were killed at roughly the same time. However...don't you have something that could contradict that?"

"Yes, that's right," said Seishiro. "Even though the timeframe during which the incident happened seems to prove that they were killed at about the same time, Aihara after Hideaki, there's still the question as to why her blood is dry while his isn't."

Komi made a sound like she was deep in thought. "I think this might have something to do with the fact that Aihara was moved from the place where she was killed."

"Well, as far as I'm aware, she was killed in the corridor just outside the classroom door. That would be in line with the theory that she witnessed the murder and was killed on the spot."

"And she was moved into the hallway, where we'd all find her, right?" Naoki added. "So the question now is how that's important, and whether it relates to anything else."

The cheerleader nodded. "Her body was moved out into the hallway for a reason. It was hidden away before, where it could have stayed in order to buy the culprit more time, but they dragged her into plain view of anybody who came out into the corridor."

"But why?" Amaya frowned.

"Clearly, they wanted us to discover the body. Now, I've been thinking about what you all haven't - that the temperature drop may have played a big part in helping the culprit confuse us further." Komi explained. "Now, the culprit clearly wanted the body discovery announcement to trigger."

Amaya nodded. "We found out that the incinerator was turned on outside the hot spring, meaning that the three of us who were inside would feel the vibrations through the floor. Our guess is that the culprit turned it on deliberately to get us to investigate, therefore we'd see the body in the corridor."

"And what would be triggered by the body discovery announcement?" Komi prompted.

"The heat turning back on, as per the motive ending," realised Keiji.

"That's right," stated Komi. "Now, there's more than one factor in this case that's affected by the temperature. First would be the water turning on again, allowing them to properly clean themselves off. That's probably the reason why the incinerator was used to draw you into the corridor. But...I think we also have to take into consideration where exactly she was moved."

"Her body was...in the middle of the corridor...right by the base of a heater." Hitomi mentioned.

If the dried blood was only by the heater, then...yes, that was right. It seemed outlandish, but...

"Guys, I think I have the solution to the whole blood problem," said Seishiro suddenly, realisation dawning. "As far as I remember, there weren't any heaters in the classroom, right?"

Naoki nodded uncertainly. "I'm pretty sure, since we moved most of them either downstairs or into the corridor."

"I didn't see anything," added Yuji.

"So Hideaki was in the freezing classroom, which, according to Monokuma, was at -9°, and Aihara was placed by a heater, which presumably kept the area around it at a temperature over zero," concluded Seishiro. "I have no idea how scientific this is, but do you think that blood could freeze before it dries?"

A hushed silence of realisation passed over the room.

Katsuo gave a long 'hmm'. "Well, shall we call upon Aihara's ghost to check? Maybe she could even helpfully tell us who the culprit was."

"Shut up," said Misaki.

"Look, we've been running on dubious science and dumb luck this entire time," muttered Katsumi.

"Hey, Monokuma," yelled Amaya suddenly, "what's the freezing temperature of blood?"

"Negative two degrees," he replied without missing a beat.

Keiji smiled. "Well, that went well."

"So we're good with the theory that the blood in the classroom and corridor froze over?" Etsuko confirmed.

"Seems like it," agreed Naoki. "So what we have now discerns the timeframe of the murder, and clears up most of the confusion around that."

Amaya nodded. "That means we can probably move on to suspects, and I think I have something for that."

"Talk," said Takehiko.

"I don't think I mentioned where this was found. In the girls' change room." Amaya finished.

Katsuo frowned. "Well, that was an utterly idiotic mistake on the culprit's part. And why didn't you mention that earlier? It would have saved this trial a lot of useless blabbering if we could just have eliminated half the suspects in one go."

"Wrong," said Etsuko suddenly. "See look, where we found the iron, a bit of it's chipped at the top. The locker it was nearby had a slight dent mark where some of the paint was chipped off. That seems to suggest that it was thrown into the locker room."

 _The iron was thrown...so what else could have been-?_

"As far as I'm aware, the alarm only triggers when your foot touches the ground," said Naoki. "I managed to open the door before-"

"-the entirety of the school heard about your shenanigans." Yuji finished, grinning.

Naoki rolled his eyes. "I wasn't doing anything, I was literally just investigating."

"Either way, that means that anyone could actually have done it. A guy could've thrown the iron into the room, or a girl could be double bluffing us." Etsuko said.

"Well, if that isn't particularly helpful right now, then maybe we could look at the schedule and see who would likely be gone during the time in which we know both murders occurred," said Keiji, taking out the somehow still uncreased timetable.

"Any suspicious absences should have been obvious, since we have written proof of where you need to be and when,' sighed Katsuo, "but clearly none of us are competent enough to actually open our eyes and observe the meager amount of people around us."

Keiji flicked through the pages. "See, the person Hideaki was intended to pass would have the easiest way of killing them both, since they were meant to be in the corridor at that time. That person would be Shitori, but she has an alibi for that."

Amaya nodded, uncomfortable at being suspected again.

"And the one who was meant to pass Aihara, but didn't, was Kusuhara."

"I noticed I didn't pass her,' defended Naoki, "I assumed that she had missed her time in the schedule."

"At 11:18, you would have been alone in the corridor, and nobody would have suspected anything because that was where you were supposed to be," muttered Keiji.

Komi put a hand to her chin. "But the murder occurred at 11:12, so we need to figure out who couldn't be accounted for at that time."

"You weren't in the cafeteria," accused Misaki, pointing at Naoki.

"A lot of us...weren't," said Hitomi.

"Yeah, but if he was unaccounted for when the murder happened, plus he had a few minutes where we were certain he was alone, that would give him the most time to successfully pull off the murder and clean up the evidence," replied Misaki.

"I was alone during that period, but for once you aren't irrationally suspecting me for every little thing," muttered Takehiko. "Funny, that the one time your baseless accusations could actually have some merit, you don't follow through on them."

"Go to hell," she said bluntly.

A realisation hit Seishiro, and when he realised what it meant a stone of dread dropped deep into his stomach. "I think it was you, Kusuhara-san. I realised how Aihara was killed, something that we passed over before."

Naoki stared at him. "Hit me. I'm not gonna deny anything, because it won't be of any use unless I have evidence myself."

"You know how the shovel was pulled apart, and the head used to kill her? I don't think the culprit held it and swung it towards her. If that happened, there would probably be something like a handprint on the shovel, since the culprit would have needed to hold it somewhere securely. If I held the shovel here," demonstrated Seishiro, "then some of the blood would have spattered on my hand and not on the shovel."

"But there's no handprint or anything, right?" Yuji guessed.

"Yeah. The spatters seem natural, not like they were wiped or spread or anything," confirmed Seishiro.

Amaya leant forwards. "But how does that prove anything? I mean, I guess it's just going to take us back to figuring out how that happened."

"I know how it happened," he refuted. "The talk of the iron being thrown into the change room, plus you making a move to throw it across the trial room at Mitsukuri, reminded me of something. I think, that as she turned to run from the crime scene, the culprit took the section of the shovel and threw it at the back of her head, killing her on impact."

The trial room collectively nodded in agreement.

"It'd be hard to throw something like that accurately and hard enough to kill somebody," added Katsumi. "And the top of the shovel is a flat, almost round heavy object, which almost resembles..."

"A discus," finished Misaki, almost reverent.

"And since we can say the iron was also thrown into the girls' change room with enough force to make a dent," added Katsuo, "it seems like the only one who fits this particular set of skills would be you, Kusuhara-san."

Hitomi nodded. "When the heat turned on...by then, you could have...returned to the laundry...where I saw you come out. There is a large sink there...that you could have used...to clean yourself off."

"Plus, according to the timetable, you'd have extra time alone in the corridor, and you were unaccounted for when the murder occurred," continued Etsuko. "There's really no other way around it, but you seem pretty suspicious right about now."

Seishiro paused, before opening his mouth to ask the question everyone had been dodging. "Kusuhara Naoki, were you the killer?"

Another reverent silence fell over the once-chaotic trial room.

Naoki looked up, making full eye contact with Seishiro.

"Yes."

The atmosphere in the room deflated, like it was letting out a breath it didn't know it was holding.

"You're not going to deny it?" Komi tested cautiously.

"Why should I? It's obvious. There's no arguing with you, because all of your evidence against me is true. There's no point," muttered Naoki. There was the faint hint of a tremor in his voice. "And- and I feel bad enough. Even if I escaped, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself."

"Oh, look at you, throwing a pity party," mocked Katsuo. "No amount of remorse is going to detract from the fact that you were the one who killed two people."

Misaki was angry again. Before, it had been simmering, bubbling beneath the surface, but now she looked explosive, ready to overflow. "You killed both of them. People who trusted you. You didn't need to kill two people!"

"I didn't intend to-"

"You still did it! You could have made the choice not to betray us all, but you didn't." The makeup artist responded in almost the same way as she did in the previous trial, and Seishiro wondered which Misaki was the real one - the friendly, motherly one, or the bitter and volatile one.

"Do you think I'm proud of what I've done? Do you think I wanted to kill them?" Naoki shouted. "I'm going to die anyway. I know I'm going to die right here, right now, so could you stop making it worse?!"

"Stop yelling," said Takehiko. "I think we're all overlooking the fact that we're taking a confession as the truth."

Amaya frowned. "And why would anybody confess to a murder they haven't committed? Especially when all our lives are on the line."

"Any reason. Anything could be possible," he replied.

"That doesn't matter right now," said Etsuko. "We probably just need to confirm exactly what happens, because, as illogical as it seems, a confession could just be false evidence to lead us off the trail."

Naoki smiled bitterly. "Hurry up and vote. I know how this is going to turn out- we all know how this is going to turn out. I'm going to die, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Komi ignored him. "Let's just make sure everything lines up. So, the culprit used Genda's schedule to plan their attack. They only intended to target Hideaki, and waited in the hall upstairs for him to arrive. That went to plan, and they somehow managed to drag him into the furthest classroom to the right of the stairs, where they killed him with the iron. While they were in that classroom, they found the broken shovel, and pulled the metal part off the handle."

"Wait, where did the iron come from?" Katsumi questioned, interrupting.

"It could've been taken at any given point, since grabbing one from the laundry and stashing it wouldn't take long, not to mention that nobody kept track of the items there," replied Keiji.

"Not to mention," added Katsuo, "that nobody would have seen them take it, since the entire room is useless to us. The time the iron was taken is utterly useless as evidence, since everybody would have had a chance to do so."

Amaya frowned. "Okay, so what happened after that?"

"Well, as the culprit was tampering with the crime scene, they were caught by surprise," said Keiji. "Earlier, we sent Aihara downstairs to find her lighter. As she was coming back upstairs, she clearly noticed something suspicious. She most likely went to investigate what was going on, and walked in on the crime scene."

"She was standing in the corridor when she saw the culprit, and the culprit saw her at the same time, right?" Yuji looked around the trial room, looking for approval. "And as she turned around to run and alert somebody, the culprit picked up the metal head of the shovel, and threw it at the back of her head. That killed her on impact."

Katsumi nodded slowly. "And the people in the hot spring didn't realise anything, because there was an entire stretch of corridor and two heavy doors in between, right?"

"Those two doors are so soundproof then, that you wouldn't be able to hear a scream if there was one," concluded Komi.

"Well, I'm never going into the hot spring again," mumbled Katsumi in reply.

"Anyway," continued Seishiro, "after she was killed, the culprit opened the classroom door closest to the stairs outwards, so it blocked the body from the view of anyone passing through the corridor. They then entered the hot spring at their intended time, before we sent them outside to find extra materials in the laundry. We also sent Ichisada to the greenhouse alongside them, and presumably the culprit split up with her before returning upstairs."

Etsuko nodded. "So then, they opened the girls' change room door and threw the iron in, carefully so that they wouldn't trigger the alarm. They put the shovel back together, but didn't bother to glue it, and left it in the classroom. Then, they dragged Aihara into the main hallway, waited a bit for the blood to dry, and turned on the incinerator before running back down to the laundry, which is where they emerged from when everybody went to investigate the body. The incinerator probably helped to dry the blood as well, since her body was near that room."

"So when the body discovery announcement triggered, they were in a room with a sink," added Misaki. "Plus, the laundry room sink is one of those really massive ones, which would make cleaning off any blood they got on them easier."

"So, after making sure they didn't appear suspicious, they picked up the object they were told to find, then joined everybody else as they ran upstairs to investigate the body. They were perfectly inconspicuous until now." Seishiro paused. "Is that right, Kusuhara Naoki?"

Naoki smiled bleakly, and nodded. "Yes."

"That's it? There's nothing we can fault with that?" Katsumi asked.

"You didn't miss a thing. Just...hurry and vote," he replied bitterly. "I can't take this for any longer, knowing that I'm going to die. That there's no hope."

Monokuma suddenly got up and vaulted on top of his stand to address the trial room. "Well boy howdy, that was one hell of a boring conclusion! You ain't got any more fight in ya? No last, futile grasp at life as your hope turns to despair? Jeez, what a disappointment!"

"Monokuma, start the voting," urged Takehiko.

"Nope, not until a good few minutes of dramatic pause to not only let the culprit wallow in their own thoughts, but also to let you all doubt whether you arrived at the right answer or not!" Monokuma cackled, before leaning back in a relaxed position. Thankfully, only a few seconds passed before he jumped up again. "Actually, you know what? I'm bored! Bored, bored, bored! Let's start the voting right away! Is everybody ready? It's...Voting Time!"

Once again, the twelve remaining students' stands opened up with a whirr to reveal the touchscreen voting system.

This was it. Against his better judgement, Seishiro looked up to see Naoki almost violently cast his vote, most certainly against himself. Some had quickly selected their vote, trying to get it over and done with, while others stalled for time and hesitated.

His finger hovered over Naoki's icon. Seishiro felt sorry for him, and didn't at the same time. He hadn't told them why he did it, but...

Before he could doubt himself any longer, Seishiro jabbed the icon and hit 'Confirm'.

 _Like a judge giving the death penalty_ , he thought to himself.

Exactly the same as the last trial, the lights went off completely. The spotlights in the centre and edges of the room came to life at once, circling over the group. They were so bright that Seishiro could physically feel the warmth from the light as it passed over him.

They circled, illuminating each student's doubtful expression for a brief moment before they were back to being shrouded in darkness.

The first spotlight stopped. Then the second, then the rest followed quickly, focusing their harsh beams at a single stand.

Naoki's.

He didn't say anything, just stood still and looked down. His hands were shaking, breathing sharp and unsteady.

"Ta-daaaah," sang Monokuma. "The culprit is our beloved - well, not really - Kusuhara Naoki! I mean, with such a straight-up confession, who else could it have been? This was a hell of a boring trial!"

"So you actually did it," stated Komi matter-of-factly. Her face, just barely visible as Seishiro's eyes adjusted to the darkness, was an ever-present stone mask.

"Traitor," spat Misaki.

Naoki placed his elbows on his stand, head still down, covering his ears with his hands. "You can hate me all you like. I would too."

"H-hey," started Seishiro, "I think this is something we've all been meaning to ask, but...why? Was it because of the motive, or did you want to get out?"

"Hah...I was always an indecisive person," replied Naoki. "I still don't know the answer to that question. I think...because of the motive, I felt like it was okay to do it. Okay to kill. Because if I succeeded, I would have gotten out, I could have chased my ambitions, I could have done more with my life. And, well, if I got found out, then at least you guys wouldn't all have to die."

Katsumi folded her arms, body language showing her crumpling in on herself. "I-I guess you did end up taking the fall for all of us and ended the motive, but in the worst way possible."

"Didn't stop you from murdering two innocents," accused Misaki.

"We established that Aihara's death wasn't premeditated," countered Takehiko. "Still, that doesn't detract from the fact that two people are now dead, soon to be a third."

"Can I tell you something?" Naoki asked suddenly, voice still shaking, but steadier now. "I tried to take Hideaki by surprise, tried to make it as quick as possible. But in that classroom, holding the weapon, I hesitated. I froze up, because the realisation of what I was doing finally caught up to me. At that point, he could have yelled, could have run, and if he did that I probably wouldn't have gone through with it. But he turned and looked at me for a moment, and...accepted his death."

A frown disrupted Etsuko's usual cheery expression. "And you didn't mean to take it that far..."

"But you did anyway, and that's how things happened," sighed Seishiro. "I...wish I could say I was sorry."

"I do, too," muttered Naoki. "But knowing that I'm going to die right here, right now...you have no idea how that feels. I don't want to sit here and wallow in my misery because there's no hope. We all know what's going to happen."

Seishiro wondered what had happened to the person who had explored the new second floor with him, the person who talked to him about his ambition, about the future that he would never have now.

He was a victim of circumstance, one that was pushed to the very brink.

And he would die for it.

"Alright," yelled Monokuma suddenly, snapping everyone out of their stupor. "I'm getting tired of all this dramatic monologuing, and I've got an insatiable craving for some execution! Upupupupu!"

"I'm sorry," blurted out Amaya suddenly. "You didn't have to-"

"I did." Naoki looked up, searching faces, looking straight into the eyes of everybody. It was harrowing.

And then...

"If everybody's ready," began Monokuma cheerily, "then it's Execution Time! Let's give it all we've got!"

 **Kusuhara Naoki, the Super High School Level Discus Thrower, has been found guilty of murder.**

 **Commence execution**.

 _A set of chains emerge from the ceiling and latch onto Naoki's limbs. He doesn't try to resist it at all. They drag him backwards, through to what looks like a giant stone slab, metal restraints affixing him by the neck, wrists, torso and ankles. He flinches as the metal digs into him. The camera pans out to reveal that he is strapped to a giant discus, in the middle of a crowded, cheering stadium._

 ** _Execution: World Record_**

 _A giant Monokuma, almost as tall as the stadium itself, steps into view, the ground shaking with every footfall. The sports-uniform-clad bear marches over and picks up the discus, Naoki still attached, before rearing up and hurling it out into the air._

 _The discus spins as it flies out, and with every rotation the restraints tighten further against him. He's dizzy, the background is a blur, and the cuffs are pulling tighter, cutting off his circulation and drawing blood. The chain around his neck digs into him, making it near impossible to breathe. His eyes screw shut in pain, and whatever sound comes out is inaudible thanks to the cheering crowd._

 _Then the discus hits the ground, rolling to a stop at the base of what looks like a podium. The side Naoki is on is facing upwards. He's still alive. The restraints suddenly come undone, but at this point he's too injured to move, only able to pull himself away a little._

 _Naoki looks up again. The giant Monokuma, the one that threw him, is standing on the first place podium, a glowing gold medal around its neck. Upon closer inspection, it seems to be beeping. The Monokuma looks down, noticing him, and then takes off the medal, holding it above him. It's nearly as big as Naoki himself._

 _It beeps once, twice, three times, faster now. And then the Monokuma lets the medal go, letting it fall slowly towards him. It's right above him, almost touching, and he opens his mouth to shout something - but before the sound leaves his mouth the entire thing explodes in a fiery spectacular, breaking apart the discus and spraying shrapnel everywhere. There's a smoking, charred mess where Naoki used to be._

 _Monokuma holds up a fist in victory, and the crowd cheers._


End file.
